


The Rhythm of Our Lonely Hearts

by Ren_rum



Series: Rehab In Rifle Rounds Matt/Andy Series [2]
Category: Black Veil Brides
Genre: Addiction, Black Veil Brides Army, Eating Disorders, M/M, Slash, Warped Tour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26335735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren_rum/pseuds/Ren_rum
Summary: The sequel to The Rhythm of Our Broken Hearts, picking up two weeks after the shocking breakup of Matt and Andy. Andy has spiraled out of control, reckless to the point of being borderline suicidal. With Warped Tour a week away he will once again find himself on tour with the guitarist. A three-month-long hell fest through the heat of the summer with his ex. What could possibly go wrong?Matt takes his chances, coming to see the singer at the album release show for Set the World on Fire. Hoping to gain his best friend back, or at least call a truce. But the show takes a horrifying turn, changing the course of events. Will a near-death experience bring them back together or farther apart?Welcome to Warped Tour 2011.
Relationships: Andy Biersack/Matt Good
Series: Rehab In Rifle Rounds Matt/Andy Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913716
Comments: 35
Kudos: 14





	1. So Helpless When I'm So Far From You

**The Rhythm of Our Lonely Hearts**

**Chapter One: So Helpless When I’m So Far from You**

Andy’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was the third one in the past fifteen minutes, every single one of them going to voicemail. He didn’t have the energy to answer them or any of the hundreds of texts left unread. He grabbed the half-empty bottle of whiskey from beside his mattress, downing more than a shot’s worth.

The past two weeks were a complete blur. He didn’t even remember leaving Matt’s apartment. Walking all the way back to Jake’s apartment, his legs aching by the time he arrived. Jake had asked what happened like it wasn’t obvious. Andy had ignored him, heading straight to the liquor cabinet. He blacked out within an hour, and he’d stayed that way ever since.

Not leaving his room for the first three days except to go to the bathroom or grab another bottle of liquor. Crying himself to sleep most nights and wishing that he wouldn’t wake up in the morning. This wasn’t his first break-up, but it was by far the most painful. No matter how much he drank he couldn’t kill the empty feeling in his heart.

It wasn’t a scar; it was a gaping wound. And he was bleeding out. Matt hadn’t called him or texted like he thought he would. On the fourth day, he broke, texting the older man and asking if they could talk. His text never went through. Matt had blocked his number.

That had triggered a bender, going out every night and getting as fucked up as he could. With the boost the band got from their upcoming album there was no shortage of people willing to give him anything he wanted. Pills, coke, alcohol, sex… all of it was at his disposal. Yet none of it was filling the hole in his heart.

It didn’t matter, he’d do anything to not feel alone. He couldn’t handle that, not after having someone by his side for the past four months. Matt was his only true friend, the rest only associated with him for their own benefit. They didn’t give a shit about him and it was obvious. No one asked what was wrong. They didn’t seem concerned that he’d lost more weight or that he was clearly in decline. They kept feeding him drinks, enabling the worst in him.

Andy turned over in bed, in pain from the previous night. He’d woken up alone, not surprised that the guy he invited over had taken off before sunrise. From what he remembered it hadn’t even been good. He hardly knew the man, only having run into him before at parties. He was in a band and had a girlfriend that he claimed to be madly in love with. Guess the last part wasn’t so true.

In truth, the whole reason that Andy had invited him over was that he needed to feel wanted. Even if it was only for a night, he craved the validation it brought. But like everything else the high was short-lived. The man had been terrible, not really knowing what to do. He was too rough, and not in the way Andy liked it.

“Andy!” Jake pounded at the singer’s door, making his head throb.

“What?” he croaked out, pulling the covers over his head to keep the light out.

“John says answer your phone or he’s coming down here himself.” The guitarist shouted from the other side of the door.

Andy groaned, grabbing his phone and flipping through his notifications. Sure enough, there were several missed calls. All of them from his manager. He was freaking out, leaving several threatening voicemails. Andy wasn’t surprised, their release party for the new album was tomorrow. It was going to be a long day of interviews, signings, and a performance at the Hollywood and Highland mall. They were expecting a massive turn out and of course, as the lead singer, he was expected to put his best foot forward.

The band was signed to a major label now. That meant more people demanding things from him, scrutinizing his actions and making him do things. All to pad their own pockets. The singer had been looking forward to the performance, but that was before his world came to an end. He didn’t give a shit about anything anymore. Let alone getting on stage and pretending to be some fucking caricature of himself.

And now he was expected to go back on tour. Dragging himself on stage in the heat every day for three months. To make matters worse, he would be constantly reminded of his pain. Having to see Matt again. 

“Why the fuck did you miss the meeting with the label yesterday?” John yelled into the phone the second he picked up Andy’s call.

Andy thought about hanging up. The whole reason this man had a job was because of him. John had been with them since the start, he thought he would know by now that yelling never got him anywhere. If anything, it just shut Andy down.

“There was a meeting yesterday?” Andy asked sarcastically. He had blown it off on purpose to get drunk.

“You know there was. I get it, you’re going through some shit. But you can’t miss these meetings. You want your whole career to suffer because of some relationship?”

Andy didn’t care about his career anymore. What’s the point of being adored by thousands if he came home alone? If the one person he wanted didn’t give a shit about him anymore.

“I’ll be at the fucking gig tomorrow, what more do you want from me? I was sick yesterday, fuck off.” The singer shot back, his headache getting worse from all the yelling.

The call went silent as John hung up.

Matt set his guitar down, his fingers sore from hours of rehearsal. He had dived headfirst into music after breaking up with Andy. Anything that would get his mind off the man. Long nights spent writing, playing, and fine-tuning the setlist for the tour. Craig had caught on within days but didn’t seem sure what to say.

He invited the guitarist out to drink, saying he’d get some people together and they could bar hop. Drinking their problems and pain away. Matt wanted nothing more than to blackout, get away from his thoughts for a night. But he declined, that would make him a hypocrite. 

The time he spent not in the studio, he spent worrying about Andy. He blocked the man’s number, deleting it from his phone. It wasn’t because he hated him, he just didn’t trust himself. One moment of weakness was all it would take to doom them both. He needed to stay strong in his resolve. He put his foot down for a reason.

Despite the empty feeling that had taken ahold of him, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was a small positive in an otherwise depressing time. No longer staying up until four, five in the morning. Waiting for Andy to come back from drinking. No more daily fights over his self-destructive behaviors. No more watching the man dying right in front of him.

He still worried about Andy, checking his Twitter to make sure he was still alive. The pain he was feeling was evident in his photos. His crystal blue eyes were dead, his face gaunt and pale. The bitter song lyrics he used as captions, clearly aimed at the older man.

He had so much to live for, so many good things had happened. His band was getting the recognition it deserved after years of being trashed. A new album on a big label. Andy should be ecstatic, enjoying every moment of it. Those things don’t last forever, and he was wasting it being miserable. 

Matt flipped through Twitter, a tweet about the Set the World on Fire album release show popping up. He clicked on it, looking it over. He shouldn’t go. There was no reason for him to, he had made it two weeks without breaking. If he went and Andy saw him, there was no telling what would happen. As much as he wasn’t angry, he didn’t know if Andy felt the same.

He bit his lip, going back and forth in his mind. There was no way to avoid the singer forever. Warped Tour started in a week. They were both on the tour. They would run into each other almost daily. Would it be best if he talked to the man before? Try to smooth things out and at least agree to be civil with each other. Agree to work with each other if they had to?

It could put both their minds at ease. If he went to support him, maybe that would show Andy that he did just want the best for him. A small peace offering that would maybe remind Andy that there were still people who cared. If it didn’t go well, he could dip into the crowd and disappear. Besides, it would look weird if he wasn’t there, right?

Everyone knew about their friendship. Matt had even gotten tweets asking if he’d be at the show. Some of Andy’s fans wanting to meet him. If he didn’t show up, would people start talking? He knew how much Andy cared about appearances, how much he feared being found out.

The guitarist knew he was making excuses to go. His willpower starting to crumble under the weight of his heart.

Andy bent over, snorting two quick lines. Wiping the counter with the sleeve of his leather jacket. He felt the rush hit him, kick-starting his heart. The exhaustion that had seeped into his bones dissipating.

He’d woken up hungover. Blacking out the night before he had to be up at nine in the morning for press wasn’t his best idea. He suffered through interviews and meetings, feeling like at any minute he was going to pass out or puke. Almost doing both during their meet and greet.

The singer threw back a shot, hoping to be blackout again by the time they went on. A little over an hour before stage time, a forty-five-minute set, and then he’d be free.

Andy looked around the empty dressing room. The rest of the guys were all busy hanging out and drinking with their friends. Unlike him, they actually had people come to support them. People that didn’t only associate with them for gain.

He laid back on the beat-up couch, hoping the shots he’d downed would hit him soon. He didn’t even bother to say anything when someone knocked on the door. Figuring it was one of the guys or venue workers.

“Um… hey…” Andy’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the man’s voice. For a moment wondering if he was hallucinating.

The singer shot up, staring in disbelief at the man standing in the doorway. Matt pushed his hair back, offering an awkward smile. Andy didn’t know how to react; he didn’t even know what he was feeling. He had spent the past two weeks hoping and praying that Matt would come back to him. A text, a phone call, anything.

Now here he was. Standing there in a leather jacket, freshly shaved with just a touch of eyeliner on. He looked amazing, clearly having faired better over the weeks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Andy growled, resentment and hurt starting to overcome him.

He had begged Matt not to leave him. Gone through hell without him, his heart finding a new way to break every night. And he had the audacity to show up unannounced after blocking his number? Not contacting him or bothering to check-in? Was this supposed to be a joke?

“I’m here to see the show… I told you I would come… I know that was before everything… but… yeah…” Matt looked down at his feet, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“You’re here to see _my_ show. With _me_ in it?” Andy stood up, feeling lightheaded.

Matt glanced up at the singer. He could tell that Andy was fucked up; he could smell the alcohol on him. He still looked absolutely stunning despite that. His makeup was flawless, an impressive feat for someone who, no doubt, did it drunk. His mane of jet-black hair teased up and falling over his shoulders in wavy locks.

The guitarist was starting to regret his decision to come. Seeing Andy in person again was much harder than he’d anticipated.

“Yeah… Andy, I don’t hate you… I’d like us to at least be okay around each other…” Matt realized Andy wasn’t going to take the conversation well. He looked furious.

“You blocked my number. You broke up with me when I needed you the most. You broke my fucking heart like it was nothing… and you think we can just be _cool_?” Andy shouted with spite in his voice.

Matt winced. This was not a good idea, but no going back now. “You know that’s not how it went. Andy, my heart is broken too. You’re not the only one who got hurt.”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Andy stepped up into the older man’s face, his fist clenched.

“Andy, can we please be adults here? We go on tour together in a week. We don’t have to be friends, but we don’t have to be enemies either.” Matt sighed, trying to word things in a way that wouldn’t get him punched.

“I came here as a peace offering. I still care about you and support you…” He could see the desolation in the younger man’s eyes.

Andy was putting up a tough front, letting his anger show when really, he was just hurt. Matt knew him well enough to know that. He didn’t want to appear weak, so instead, he acted out. Lashing out and hurting others before they could hurt him.

“You don’t care about me. And you don’t support me. If you did… you would have fucking picked up the phone.” Andy shot back.

“I wanted to… but we both have to heal. Andy, my intentions have never been to hurt you…” Matt didn’t know what to do.

He wanted to wrap his arms around the boy, tell him that he was sorry. Make him feel safe and loved. Take the pain away from him. But did Andy even want that?

“Well, you did… now get away from me. I don’t want to see you.” Andy’s voice faltered, a hint of his true emotions coming through.

“You want to be mad at me, go ahead. But don’t act like I wasn’t there for you. Everything I did, I did out of love.” Andy was starting to get under the older man’s skin.

It hadn’t been lost on the guitarist that of all the begging and pleading Andy had done that night, the one thing he didn’t say was he would get help. He promised everything but the one thing that would have saved them. Even at his most desperate, he refused to admit his problems. Refused to let go of the sickness.

“I don’t need you. And I don’t need your help. You want to watch the show, be my fucking guest.” Andy sneered.

“… cool, good talk, Andy.” Matt shook his head, realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the singer.

He turned around and walked down the corridor. Leaving Andy by himself.

Andy picked a bottle of wine up, hurling it against the wall. The bottle shattered, spraying red liquid all over the walls and carpet. Letting out a piercing scream of expletives, his emotions overcoming him.

“Whoa, calm the fuck down. You destroy this place; it’s coming out of your paycheck.” John warned, appearing in the doorway.

“Fuck you! I want him banned from coming back here! How fucking dare you even let him in!” Andy yelled, pointing a finger at the man.

“Let who in?” John asked, looking at the kid like he was crazy.

“Matt., I want him banned from coming back here.” Andy could feel his chest getting tighter. Making it hard to breathe.

“Oh my god… fine. I’ll tell security he can’t come back here. I didn’t even know he was here. But you need to calm down, you’re about to go on stage.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Andy growled, ready to let his wrath out on the next person who tried him.

“Whatever, Six. I just came back here to get you. You know, do my job.” John rolled his eyes, beckoning for the singer to make his way to stage.

“And no fucking jumping off things, climbing on things or stupid stunts. This place has rules, got it?”

Andy waved at his manager, not listening to a word he was saying. Time to give them a fucking show.


	2. Hollywood and Highlands

****Chapter Two: Hollywood and Highlands** **

Matt eyed the singer, watching as he sprinted from one side of the stage to the other. His movements erratic, visibly intoxicated. The crowd screamed his name, only pushing him to do more. His voice had spite to it, singing with passion and raw emotion.

The older man leaned back against the wall. He was hidden from view, watching the show from the hallway that led backstage. He didn’t know why he bothered to stay; Andy made it clear he wasn’t wanted. But the guitarist had fought L.A traffic to come, so he stayed anyways.

He missed Andy. Matt had lost more than a lover; he’d lost his best friend too. The past two weeks had been lonely. Hoping that the breakup would force Andy to evaluate his life. Underestimating how deep the singer had fallen into his ways. If anything, he’d gotten worse. From Matt’s vantage point it didn’t even look like the man was aware of where he was. Blacked out and probably high on something.

The younger man climbed up on one of the pillars above the crowd. They cheered, prompting him to climb up the next one. His long legs barely enough to hoist him up the step. Matt chewed at his lip, his nerves acting up. Andy stumbled, the intoxication making it hard to keep his balance.

He was already up fairly high, screaming the course to the song. He glanced down at the older man. Sneering and making it known that he didn’t approve of him being there. Andy ascended to the final platform, now at least fifteen feet above the crowd.

“He’s… not going to jump from there is he?” Matt asked, nudging John.

The blonde-haired man looked up, cursing under his breath. “He better fucking not. I told him not to go up there.”

Well, there was the problem, John should know that telling Andy not to do something was the surest way to get him to do it.

Matt’s heart sped up as the singer sat down on the platform. Peering down into the gap between the hallway and stage. There was no way he was actually contemplating jumping. Even if he went straight down, it was enough to break his ankle. The older man watched in horror as Andy pushed himself off the ledge, trying to make it across the gap.

A rush of adrenaline shot through the guitarist as he heard the horrid sound of Andy’s torso hitting the railing. Falling limp onto his back as he hit the ground. Matt felt sick to his stomach. Andy was laying on the ground, motionless.

“Fuck-” Matt sprinted over to the man as security crowded around him.

Andy heard the crack of his ribs before he felt the pain, blacking out instantly as his head hit the ground. When he came to the band was still playing, several men in security uniforms were hovering over him. His entire torso felt like it was on fire, sharp radiating pain making it hard to breathe.

His head was throbbing, his vision blurry. For a moment he didn’t realize what had happened, not connecting the pain to his failed attempt to jump onto the stage. He rolled over onto his side, moaning as the pain started to intensify.

“Andy… fuck, Andy… oh my god…” Matt’s voice cut through the screams of fans and blaring guitars.

He opened his eyes, seeing the older man knelt down over him. Matt’s eyes were full of panic. “Andy, are you okay? Holy shit… someone call 911!” he shouted.

“Fuck… I’m f-fine.” Andy groaned, pushing himself off the ground with the help of security.

Adrenaline and alcohol took over, dulling his pain enough to give him the illusion that he was alright. He clutched his side, staggering towards the stage. Leaving the stunned guitarist behind.

By the time he made it back on stage, the band had stopped playing. Realizing that something had happened to him. He immediately regretted his decision to get back on stage. The sheering pain starting to make him lightheaded.

He clung to the microphone stand, each breath excruciating. “Holy shit… I think I just broke my fucking ribs.” He gasped into the mic.

The crowd cheered in response. Andy glanced over to where Matt was standing. The older man shook his head, motioning for him to get off the stage. Andy ignored it, even more determined to carry on the show.

Matt pushed his way through the backstage area, making it to side stage. He stood out of view of the crowd, but close enough to run to the singer’s aid should he need it. There was no way that Andy wasn’t in pain. The fact that he was even alive was astonishing. Matt shuttered to think what would have happened had his head hit the ground first.

He couldn’t believe that no one was dragging him off stage. Andy needed to go to the hospital immediately. God knows how much internal damage he had done. What if he was bleeding out from the inside? Did no one else care?

Andy turned away from the crowd as Jinxx and Jake launched into their guitar solos. He bent over, wrapping his arms around his torso. His face displaying the agony he was in.

The singer fought to make it through the last song, the burning sensation in his chest overwhelming. Every time he screamed or moved his arms a shock wave of pain would go through him. A couple of times almost making him pass out.

The adrenaline was wearing off and he was starting to realize that he was badly injured. He couldn’t even touch the side of his ribcage to assess the damage, it was too excruciating. He thanked the crowd for coming out, not able to form coherent sentences. Desperate to get off the stage.

Andy clutched the hand railing, stumbling off stage. Doubled over, his breathing becoming more labored. People were yelling after him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He felt like he was going to throw up, his head still throbbing.

“Jesus fucking Christ Andy...” Matt cursed, catching the singer as he collapsed.

Andy cried out as Matt’s arm pressed against his injured side. “Fuck… I’m so sorry babe… Goddamn it, we need to get you to the hospital…”

Andy started to shake, his body going into shock from the pain. The fear hit him, the thought that he might actually die causing him to panic. His feet left the ground as the older man picked him up, careful not to put pressure on his ribs.

Matt carried him into the dressing room, resting him on his good side. He pulled the man’s leather vest off, trying to figure out how hurt he was. It was hard to see any bruising with all the black paint covering his chest. The left side looked swollen and distorted visibly injured.

“Ah- FUCK!” Andy screamed as the guitarist felt down his ribs, causing the man to instantly pull back.

“Fuck… Matt, it hurts so fucking bad” he whimpered.

“It’s going to be okay Andy… I’m here… just hold on. I’m going to get you to the hospital.” Matt tried his best to stay calm, trying not to let his own fear show.

“I think I’m gonna fucking puke… fuck…” Andy moaned, trying to sit up. The change of position sent another sharp stabbing sensation through his torso, causing him to fall back onto the couch.

“Please don’t move… I don’t know how broken your ribs are.” Matt tried to keep Andy laying down, worried that if he moved the wrong way, he might puncture something.

Andy closed his eyes, trying to fight the nauseous feeling. His head wouldn’t stop hurting, he was pretty certain he had a concussion.

“I’m going to have John get to pull my car up, and I’m going to take you to the hospital. Just hold on, okay?” Matt brushed the boy’s hair back, trying to soothe him.

“D-Don’t leave me…” Andy choked out, grabbing at the older man’s hand.

“I’m not… I’m gonna stay right here with you.” Matt promised him.

He tossed his keys to the manager before turning his attention back to Andy. Tears were falling down the boy’s cheeks. Matt couldn’t even imagine the amount of pain he was in, wishing he could take it all away. Seeing Andy like this was killing him.

“Do you think you can stand up to walk out to the car?”

“Fuck I don’t know… I’m really dizzy…” Andy moaned, having to fight to stay conscious.

Matt’s phone rang with an incoming call from John. He was outside with the car. “Just try to stay awake… you hit your head pretty hard…”

Andy bit down on his bottom lip to keep from screaming. Getting to his feet with the help of Matt and CC. The two of them having to drag him out to the car.

Andy laid on his uninjured side, the passenger seat reclined back. Every pothole or bump the older man hit sent a new wave of pain through him. It burned to breathe, the fear that he had punctured a lung starting to feel more real.

Matt was driving like a mad man. Swerving through traffic and almost running a couple of red lights. He reached over, giving the singer’s hand a squeeze. “We’re almost there… they’ll give you something for the pain… just a few more minutes.”

The alcohol was wearing off, his mind starting to go through all the worst-case scenarios. How could he have been so stupid?

Matt pulled into the closest parking space he could find. Shutting the engine off before hurrying over to the passenger side. Andy’s nails dug into his arms as he helped him out of the car. The younger man tried to focus on the feeling of Matt’s touch, anything to distract from the burning sensation in his side.

“Hey, hey… my friend he just fell while he was performing tonight. He needs to see a doctor- he’s really hurt.” Matt pleaded with the woman at the front desk, having to support most of Andy’s weight.

The woman looked up, eyeing the singer. Matt hadn’t even given thought to how the situation might be perceived. A man covered head to toe in black paint, wearing nothing but skinny jeans and cowboy boots. Screaming in pain saying he fell off the second story onto a rail? It would give most people reason to pause.

“How far did he fall…” she asked, not taking her eyes off Andy.

“I don’t know- fuck, maybe 15 feet? He’s in a lot of pain, fucking call a doctor!”

Two nurses came through the ER doors, running over. Andy let out a piercing scream as one of them put pressure on his back. Cursing at the poor woman. They managed to get him into a room, looking him over and assessing his injuries.

“Fuck… it fucking hurts- don’t fucking touch me!” Andy warned, shoving their hands away.

“Sir, I need to know if you took anything tonight, and how much you’ve had to drink.” One of them asked, trying to hook Andy up to a monitor.

“I didn’t take anything. I’m not fucking drunk- my fucking ribs are broken!” Andy yelled, getting more agitated.

“We have to run a drug test on you before we give you anything.” She insisted, grabbing Andy’s arm to draw blood.

“No! Fuck off!” The singer protested, yanking it away before she could stick him.

Matt grabbed the man’s jaw, trying to get him to stop fighting the women. “Andy. Stop, they’re trying to help you. Calm the fuck down.”

“Ah- fucking bitch!” Andy hissed as one of them stuck him, drawing up two tubes of blood.

“Hey! Stop or I’m calling your fucking mom.” Matt snapped. The threat worked, at least enough for the nurses to place an IV.

All the movement and fighting had made the pain worse, causing the younger man to finally give in. He quieted down, exhausted. Matt pulled a chair up to the side of the bed once the women left, lacing his fingers together with Andy’s.

“Are you going to stay here?” Andy asked, his voice hoarse from all the yelling.

“Yes… of course… I wouldn’t leave you here by yourself.” Matt answered, stroking the boy’s hair.

Andy leaned into the man’s touch. Closing his eyes, still feeling like he was going to pass out. He held onto the older man’s other hand, afraid to let go. He had been such an asshole to him, yet here he was by his side.

Eventually, someone came in, wheeling the singer away to get x-rays. Matt stayed back in the room, making the call to his parents. Amy answered the phone, panic in her voice as the guitarist tried to explain what had happened. He could hear her throwing things into a suitcase, promising to be on the next flight out to LA. He hated having to be the one to tell her, no parent wants to be woken up at four in the morning to hear their kid is in the ER.

By the time he hung up, Andy was back along with a man in a white coat. He pulled the x-rays up, pointing to the left side. Matt felt sick looking at the images. The last three ribs on Andy’s left side were nothing but broken shards of bone. The doctor said he had a concussion too and that in his medical opinion Warped Tour was out of the question. It was bed rest for the next few weeks.

Andy hadn’t taken that well, fighting with the man. Insisting that he wasn’t going to miss the tour. Broken ribs or not. It wasn’t until the doctor ordered a morphine drip that Andy calmed back down. The drugs subduing him.

“You scared me tonight…” Matt confessed, sitting on the side of the hospital bed.

“I’m sorry…” Andy whispered, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Now that the pain was under control, his body started to relax, his eyes fighting to stay open. He was past exhaustion. So much had happened in such a short amount of time. A rollercoaster of emotions and he was spent.

“I booked us a hotel… you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor. You need a proper bed.” Matt said, running his fingertips up and down the singer’s arm.

“Us?” Andy opened his eyes, looking up at the man.

“Yes… someone has to take care of you. The doctor said complete bed rest. Your mom will be here tomorrow morning… but she can’t stay the whole time…” Matt bit his lip, not sure how Andy would react. It was only a few hours ago that Andy was screaming how much he hated him. 

“What about the tour?” The singer mumbled.

“We’ll worry about that later, okay? Let’s just get things figured out tonight.”

“Okay…” Andy could feel himself losing the battle to stay awake. “I’m so tired…”

“Get some sleep… it’ll probably be a little bit longer before you can leave.” Matt smiled softly at the man.

Once the singer was asleep, Matt sat back in the chair. Rubbing his eyes and sighing. Andy wasn’t the only one who was tired. It was almost six in the morning, the sun already starting to come up. He had no idea what the next few weeks were going to bring. He would have to do everything for Andy. Bring him food, medicine, help him get in and out of bed, keep his ribs bandaged. It would be a full-time job.

It wasn’t like all of their issues had been resolved just because Andy was hurt. All the emotions were still raw. But there was no one else to care for him. Whether he thought so or not, Andy needed him. 


	3. Got No Heart To Break

****Chapter Three: Got No Heart To Break** **

Matt helped the singer into the hotel room, the sunlight peeking through the curtains. It had taken another two hours to get Andy discharged, then another forty-five minutes to fight rush-hour traffic. Jake met them at the hotel, dropping off a duffle bag of Andy’s things.

Andy was still in his stage clothes, his body still covered in black paint. The hospital had given him medication to take for the pain which had him pretty out of it.

“You need to take a shower and get all the makeup off,” Matt said, guiding the younger man into the bathroom.

“I’m too tired to…” Andy groaned; his eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

“I’ll help you… come on.” The guitarist started the water, warming it up.

Andy turned around, looking at himself in the mirror. His makeup was smeared, his face pale. He poked at the bandages and gauze wrapped around his torso. The drugs were dulling the pain, creating a comfortable numbness in the singer’s mind. The reality of his injuries hadn’t fully hit him, nor how close he’d come to death.

He stripped his leather vest off, setting it on the counter. Pulling at the tape holding the bandage together until it fell to the floor.

“Jesus…” Matt muttered under his breath, staring at the deep purple and blue bruises covering the younger man’s back and sides.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself? I don’t want you falling…” he added, motioning to the running shower.

“I’ll be fine…” Andy replied, despite still feeling lightheaded.

“Okay… well just yell if you need help…” Matt wasn’t too keen on leaving Andy by himself, but he also knew showering with him would be awkward. And the night had already been stressful enough.

He made his way into the main room, his body feeling worn out and heavy. At least Andy had gotten some sleep at the hospital, the guitarist had stayed awake the whole time. Too anxious to even relax. He couldn’t get the sound of Andy’s ribs hitting the metal railing out of his head. Seeing him motionless on the floor, not knowing if he was alive, dead, or injured. Their last moment together would have been shouting and arguing. Things could have ended right there, without a chance to make amends.

Matt laid back on one of the beds, closing his eyes. Andy was okay though, the doctors said he hadn’t punctured anything. His ribs were shattered but he would heal. As long as he listened to directions and rested, he’d be better in a matter of weeks. Of course, listening to the doctor’s orders entailed no drinking or smoking. And absolutely no going on tour until he was healed. Three things that Matt seriously doubted Andy would do.

There was a chance that this could be the wakeup call Andy needed. Almost falling to your death because you were fucked up should be enough. Matt hoped it was.

The older man heard the water cut off, Andy appearing a few minutes later. He’d changed into a pair of sweatpants, his bruises more evident now that he’d washed the paint off. It looked painful; his left side badly swollen.

“I’ll help you with the bandages and then I think we both need sleep…”

Andy nodded, carefully laying down on the bed. His breathing was shallow. Even with the medication in his system, deep breaths were uncomfortable.

Matt shifted through the bag of stuff from the hospital, pulling out the gauze and bandages. The singer winced as he wrapped them around his torso, applying too much pressure the first time he tried. Once Andy was bandaged up, he helped him under the covers. Shutting the lights off before climbing into his bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

An intense burning pain woke the singer up. Dazed and confused at first, the whole incident felt like a bad dream. The pain killers had worn off in his sleep, as had any lasting effects of the alcohol he’d drank at the show. Leaving him in excruciating pain and hungover.

Andy tried to push himself up to a seated position, but the movement only caused more shooting pains to radiate through his back. His vision went blurry, forcing him to lay back down. His head was spinning, and the nauseous feeling had returned with a vengeance.

“Matt…” he choked out, the throbbing in his head increasing.

The older man was fast asleep in the adjacent bed, not hearing his pleas. Andy whimpered, holding his hand against his injured side. _Fuck, why didn’t I set an alarm?_ he cursed himself for letting his medication lapse.

“Fuck… Matt!” Andy cried out again, hurting his ribs from yelling.

He heard the guitarist mumble something, waking up. “Goddamn it, help me…” he groaned, trying to push himself up again.

Matt turned the light on, hurrying over to the singer’s side once he realized he much pain he was in. “Shit, I’m sorry Andy… fuck I should have given you another dose before you went to sleep…”

Andy leaned his head back against the pillow, “Shut up and fucking helped me.” The singer growled.

The older man bit his tongue, ignoring the rude comment as he searched for the bottle of pills. Grabbing it and rushing back over to the bed.

Andy took the pill, washing it down with water. He felt terrible. The little sleep he did get was not enough to make a meaningful difference in his exhaustion. The entire left side of his torso was so tender he couldn’t even sleep on his back. Now sober, his anxiety was starting to rise. Along with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Everyone was waiting to see if he would be able to tour. The band’s first time on Warped Tour; so many fans would be disappointed. He was barely holding on before breaking his ribs, scraping by each day. Now, he was completely reliant on others. Namely, Matt.

After screaming at him in the dressing room, after all the shit he’d put him through. This was the crash the older man had warned him about. The very thing he’d been trying to prevent.

Andy glanced at the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. He was scrolling through his phone, his face drawn out and tired. Still in the clothes he wore to the show, not wanting to leave the singer to go back to his apartment and change.

Matt wasn’t ‘back’, he was just playing babysitter.

“Matt…” Andy spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

The guitarist turned his attention away from his phone, “Yeah?”

“Are you… planning on staying here?”

“Well, your mom will be here soon… and I’m going to have to go home and change at some point.” The older man replied.

“… are you coming back?” Andy bit at his lip ring.

He shouldn’t expect Matt to stay with him. They weren’t back together and if he hadn’t broken his ribs they wouldn’t even be speaking. At the hospital, the older man had said he’d be there for him, but there was a chance he said that in the moment. He might change his mind.

“Do you want me to come back, Andy?” Matt turned his head, facing the singer.

The guitarist brushed his hair back, the lack of sleep causing his patience to wear thin. Andy could be incapacitated for weeks. Being locked in a hotel room with your ex wasn’t exactly easy. He couldn’t turn his back on the man though, who else would be there for him? Andy didn’t exactly have a lot of friends.

“Because last I heard you didn’t want me or need me… so if you want me here. Say so.” Matt realized he was being a bit petty, but he wanted to know if Andy even wanted his help.

“I don’t want to be alone…” Andy’s voice faltered a bit as he spoke, his choice of words (or lack thereof) wasn’t lost on Matt.

There was a difference between wanting him and not wanting to be alone.

“I’ll be here when I can,” Matt replied, grateful when a knock on the door gave him an excuse to get up.

Amy pushed past the guitarist, hurrying over to Andy’s side. “My poor boy… you have no idea how worried I was…”

“I’m okay, mom… really.” Andy protested, wincing as he tried to give his mom a hug the best he could.

“I saw the video on the plane… god what were you thinking?” She exclaimed, looking over the bandages on Andy’s torso.

“Not much apparently… not exactly my smartest move…” The singer laughed nervously, admitting crucial details.

Matt crossed his arms, staying back so Amy could have space. Was Andy not going to tell her that the reason he fell was that he was blackout drunk and high on coke? He had heard the results of the man’s blood screening. It was obvious to anyone that Andy hadn’t been sober.

“Matt… thank you so much for taking care of him. I got the first flight out I could find… but I’m glad he had you with him.” Amy smiled softly at the guitarist, seemingly oblivious to the events of the past few weeks.

Andy hadn’t told his parents they’d broken up. Of course, he wouldn’t, because naturally, that would lead to them asking why. What was he going to tell them? That he had been hiding how sick he was from them? That he didn’t want to get better. Not for his relationship, his parents, fans, or himself.

“He’s lucky to have you,” Amy said, hugging Matt and patting him on the back.

“Mom… we uh…” Andy started, stopping himself before he said the words.

“Well, I should really get back to my place. I need to shower and change. I’ll be back later.” Matt interjected before either of them had a chance to speak. Giving Andy a quick wave and nod before leaving the room. Andy could tell his mom himself. He didn’t want to hear whatever lies the man would come up with.

Amy’s brows furrowed as the guitarist left abruptly. Turning back to her son, studying his depressed expression. “Did something happen, hun?”

“We’re not together anymore…” The words caused the singer’s chest to tighten.

“Oh, sweetheart… I’m sorry…” His mom frowned, stroking Andy’s hair. “Are you on good terms… on the phone last night, he sounded so worried about you…”

“Not really… I don’t know…” Andy shook his head, the pain medications finally starting to kick in.

“What happened, the two of you seemed so happy…”

Andy sighed, the deep breath causing a stabbing pain. “Stupid arguments… I’d really rather not talk about it…”

Amy nodded, not wanting to push Andy for more details when he didn’t feel good. “Well… maybe the two of you will be able to work things out eventually. And if not, you’re young… you’ll find someone out there for you.”

“Yeah… maybe,” Andy replied, glancing back towards the door. His heart already feeling emptier from the man’s absence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates, I have another exam coming up in a week and a half and I've been studying full time <3


	4. Sarah

****Chapter Four: Sarah** **

Matt rocked the empty shot glass back and forth on the bar, lost in contemplation. His phone buzzing in his back pocket with unread texts. He didn’t need to check them to know they were from Andy. Wondering where he was, and why he hadn’t come back to the hotel.

Andy would be fine; his mom was there. She was staying for a few days before heading back to Ohio. Matt sighed, motioning to the bartender to pour another shot.

She raised an eyebrow, not making a comment as she poured out another shot of whiskey. He had lost count of how many he’d had. After getting back to his apartment, showering, and passing out for a few hours he ended up at the bar across the street. Alone, at 6 pm. Getting wasted off cheap whiskey.

The guitarist threw the shot back, letting it burn before swallowing the bitter liquid. It had been years since he found himself drinking away his problems. A bad habit he developed on the first tour he did with his old band. Since then he’d grown up, gotten a handle on it, and learned his limits. He got drunk for fun, not self-pity. But he’d broken that rule tonight, wanting an escape from the shit show his life had become.

Once the adrenaline and worry of Andy being critically hurt wore off, he started thinking back to their conversation in the dressing room. Andy hadn’t changed at all, if anything he was worse. The break-up hadn’t served as a catalyst for him to change his ways. Give up the self-destructive behaviors and finally face his issues.

“You alright, honey?” The brunette bartender asked him, leaning over the bar.

She had beautiful honey brown eyes and a gentle smile. A slight southern accent meant she wasn’t an LA native, probably a wannabe actress chasing her dream. Her concern seemed genuine; her pink lips pouted out slightly.

“Yeah… just thinking about things,” Matt replied.

“What kind of things? Not bad things I hope…” Her voice was soothing. Upbeat and soft; definitely not from LA.

She propped her elbows up on the bar, resting her chin on the backs of her hands. The bar was mostly empty, except for a couple in the far corner. Guess there weren’t any other lonely souls drinking their way through heartbreak tonight.

“Relationship stuff… you know, what most people drink about.” Matt chuckled, hoping she wouldn’t press for details. He didn’t see the point in pouring his heart out to a complete stranger, no matter how cute her accent was.

“Oh, I’ve been there, darling. I think I drank an entire bottle of wine last month when my ex-boyfriend dumped me. I’m Sarah, by the way…”

“Sarah? I’m Matt, and sorry to hear about your boyfriend…” The guitarist said, she seemed like a sweet girl. What idiot would dump her?

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Matt. And I’m sorry for whatever it is you’re going through… whiskey at 6 o’clock… can’t be nothing fun.” She tilted her head to the side, locks of silky brown hair falling over her tan shoulders.

“Ha… yeah, complicated shit… my ex…” Matt trailed off, looking down at his glass. “You know I thought things might work out again… but… I’m not so sure if they will.”

Sarah frowned, filling his glass up again. “Well if I’ve learned anything in my twenty-three years, it’s that they’re your ex for a reason. The heart wants what it wants though... This girl… you love her?”

Matt paused, stopping himself from correcting the woman. It was better she didn’t know, not that he was ashamed. But he like the anonymity it gave him. She didn’t seem like the type to be into rock n’ roll bands, but you never know. It was better to play it safe.

“I did… I think I still might. But who I fell in love with… that’s not her anymore.” Matt spoke, a sadness in his voice. “People change… but it’s not always for the best I guess.”

“Ain’t that the truth… ya sure do seem broken up about it… I hate that for you. You seem like a sweet fella.”

Matt couldn’t tell if she was flirting with him, or if it was a southern hospitality thing. Did he want her to be flirting with him? She was beautiful, not his normal type, but beautiful none the less. It was nice to have someone listen to him for once, showing concern for his feelings. That was something Andy seemed incapable of doing, he couldn’t remember the last time the singer asked him how he was feeling. The only time he did was if he thought Matt was mad at him.

“Thanks… I appreciate it.” Matt smiled back, tipping his glass to her before downing the shot.

Sarah looked down at her fingers, fidgeting with them. “You know… I hope I ain’t be to forward with this but… I get off in thirty… if ya needed someone to talk to…” Her cheeks blushed a light pink.

Matt’s heart skipped a beat. He knew where things could go if he accepted her offer and given his state of inebriation, he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. He was so starved for affection that he knew he couldn’t resist.

A pang of guilt went through him for even considering it. It felt like he was cheating even though he and Andy weren’t together anymore. He was free to do whatever he wanted; Andy didn’t own him. Sarah was sweet and gentle, and he wanted that.

“It’s not too forward… uh…”

“Before you say no… I ain’t looking for nothing serious. Just two lonely people…” She flashed a pearly white smile, making Matt melt.

“Now that’s a little forward…” Matt joked, the alcohol in his veins inhibiting his better judgment. “But forward isn’t bad… I live across the street. Unit 134.” He added, shelling out the money for his tab.

“134. I think I can remember that.” She purred, giving him a wink before turning to wait on a group of guys that had gathered at the bar.

Matt flipped through his missed calls and messages, all of which were from Andy. Asking him where he was, when he was coming back and could he bring a bottle of whiskey with him. The guitarist shook his head at the request, he had wondered how long it would be before Andy was trying to drink again.

His fingers tapped across the screen, making up and excuse that he was helping Craig with some new songs. Andy replied within seconds, complaining that he’d promised to take care of him. That he didn’t feel good. Matt ignored the text, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t the man’s slave. He would be back, but Andy couldn’t give him one night to decompress?

It had been over an hour since he left the bar, with no sign of Sarah. He wasn’t surprised, she’d probably wised up and realized she could do better than some drunk at the bar. It was still a bit of a letdown, even if he knew they would more than likely never see each other again. The turnover rate for bartenders was high at that place.

The phone rang with an incoming call from Andy’s number, _why did I unblock him?_ Matt cursed himself. He was about to hit accept when there was a knock at the door.

The call went to voicemail as he hit decline. Tossing it onto the kitchen table as he made his way to the front door. Sarah was standing on the steps, having changed out of her workout clothes. A cute floral dress on that cut off midway down her thighs. Her legs were toned, and sun-kissed. She looked like an angel. 

“Hey…” Matt smiled, stepping aside to let her in.

“Sorry I was late… my replacement had car trouble, and we started getting busy.” She apologized, looking around the apartment.

“It’s alright… uh, welcome to my place. Sorry, it’s kind of a mess… I just got back and haven’t had the chance to clean things up…”

Sarah spun around, shrugging her shoulders “It ain’t nothing bad, looks like a nice place to me. Just got back? You travel or something?”

“Touring… I’m a musician.” Matt rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, feeling like a cliché in this town.

“A musician? I think that so cool… you play an instrument?” She stepped closer to him; the scent of her perfume filled Matt’s senses.

“I play guitar.”

“So, you’re good with your fingers then?” She smirked, her voice lowering to a seductive whisper.

Matt’s eyes went wide at the boldness of her question, feeling a rush of excitement. He wrapped an arm around her small waist, pulling her against him. “Now why would you want to know that?”

“Like I said… just two lonely people…” Sarah closed the gap between them, her lips soft and lush against his.

Her lip balm tasted like strawberries as Matt kissed her back. His fingertips digging into her hips. Already unzipping the back of her dress as they fell onto his bed together, both of their clothes becoming piles on the ground. Random hookups weren't his style any more, but he craved the feeling of another person's touch. Tired of feeling like a parent, he wanted to feel like a lover. Even for just one night. 

Andy frowned, staring at the unanswered texts on his screen. His mom had gone to bed, leaving him by himself. She was staying a few rooms over and offered to stay but he didn’t want to keep her up. He’d slept most of the day and wasn’t the least bit tired now. Restless, as the panic started to set in. John had called him to say that there was no way he was going on tour until his ribs were healed.

He’d protested, promising him that he would be better by the time tour started in a week. John hadn’t budged, insisting that he take at least two weeks of rest. Andy had hung up on him, screaming expletives until his mom shot him a glare.

The singer looked around the darkened room, feeling the anxiety rise in his chest. He winced in pain as he pushed himself upright, the last Vicodin he took starting to wear off. The silence was only broken up by the hum of the AC unit, leaving him only his thoughts to pay attention to.

He was starting to feel the effects of withdrawing. His anxiety always spiked when he sobered up, the exact reason he tried to come down as gently as possible. Drinking progressively less until he was sober enough to do whatever it was he needed to. But he’d been forced to go cold turkey, not having a sip of alcohol since the show. It wasn’t like he could ask his mom to go get him alcohol, which was why he needed Matt to answer his phone.

“Matt… seriously, it’s almost eleven call me back.” The singer spoke into the phone, leaving another voicemail.

Andy’s thumb hovered over the contact for Craig in his phone. Matt said that’s who he was with. Was it crossing boundaries to call him and ask if Matt was still there? He was going crazy waiting for a reply…

He gave in, sending a text to the other man to see if he was done working on stuff with the guitarist. The phone dinged a few minutes later with a reply ‘ _Matt’s not here, I’m with my girlfriend tonight. Idk where he is_ ’.

Andy felt his heart drop in his chest. If he wasn’t with Craig that meant he’d lied about what he was doing. Why would he do that? The singer’s mind started rushing through scenarios, none of which were good. Had Matt changed his mind about coming back?

Another call went straight to voicemail. Andy’s ribs ached as he forced himself to sit all the way up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He felt dizzy and nauseous from the pain, grabbing the bottle of pills from the side table. He popped two of them into his mouth, dry swallowing them.

“Ah… fuck.” He groaned, standing up. Holding onto the bedframe to steady himself.

It took the man almost thirty minutes to get dressed, every time he’d bend to pull his jeans up or put a shoe on pain would shoot through his side. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to do; show up at Matt’s house? What if he wasn’t there? It wasn’t like he could roam the streets looking for him in his current condition. But if he spent another minute in the hotel room, he was going to lose his mind.

Andy grabbed his phone and key card, tucking them into his back pocket before pulling his leather jacket on. Not bothering with a shirt, it hurt too much to lift his arms up. He stumbled through the hotel hallways, starting to regret his decision. The pills were starting to work but he was still in a lot of pain.

He was able to hail a taxi, giving him the address to Matt’s place. Biting at his nails the whole way over. It started to dawn on him that what he was doing was a bit crazy. It was possible that the man just wanted some time to himself. If that was the case, then he was about to make himself look like an asshole.

It was too late to turn back though as the taxi pulled up to the curb, letting him out. Andy held his side, walking up the stairs was excruciating. He paused at the door, trying to catch his breath. He needed to lay down…

Matt drifted in and out of sleep, Sarah curled up by his side. The sound of knocking woke him up, at first not knowing if it was from a dream or real. It wasn’t until he heard it again, this time louder, that he realized it was coming from the front door. He groaned, looking over at the time, it was a little after midnight.

“Mm? Did you hear that?” Sarah mumbled, waking up.

“Yeah… someone’s at the door. Probably one of my dumb ass roommates who locked himself out. I’ll be right back…” Matt sighed, throwing the covers off himself.

He was still decently intoxicated, making it hard to zip his jeans up. The knocking getting more aggressive by the time he made it to the front door.

“Jesus fucking Christ, did you forget your key aga-” Matt cut himself off as he opened the door, shocked to see Andy leaning against the railing.

A shot of adrenaline went through his veins as he realized the predicament he was in. Andy clung to the railing for support, clearly in pain as he tried to stand up straight. Matt couldn’t believe his eyes, had he really gotten all the way out here by himself?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He whispered, staring at the man.

“W-Why did you lie to me…” Andy growled, holding onto his injured side.

Matt racked his brain, trying to come up with something to say. Anything that would get Andy off his porch before Sarah came looking for him. The last thing he needed was to deal with either of their reactions.

“Andy you can’t just fucking show up at my apartment… what the fuck? You’re not even supposed to be out of bed!”

“Hey Matt, I think I’m going to go… my dog probably needs out.” Sarah’s voice called from behind him, her heels clicking across the hardwood floors.

Andy’s eyes went wide at the sound of the woman’s voice, looking up at Matt in disbelief. 

_Fuck._


	5. You Are the Best Romance I've Never Had

****Chapter Five: You Are the Best Romance I’ve Never Had** **

The look on Andy’s face shattered Matt’s heart. He couldn’t even get a word out before Sarah walked up behind him. Her caramel eyes darting between the two men. She raised an eyebrow, noticing the tension between them.

“Is this your roommate?” She asked, biting her bottom lip.

“Roommate?” Andy scoffed, the rage in his chest masking any pain he was feeling.

He looked at the woman standing beside Matt, dark brown hair pulled up in a ponytail. Her mascara slightly smeared, and her dress wrinkled as if it had been thrown on hastily. She stood there awkwardly, her eyes only occasionally meeting his. 

“Is that what he told you?” Andy shot back at her, not even giving thought to the fact that he was in essence outing himself to her.

She didn’t seem to know who he was, which he’d be thankful for later. What she did know was that there was more to the situation than whatever Matt told her. A look of embarrassment on her face as she clutched her purse in her hands.

“Fuck… Sarah, uh… you know how I said it was complicated?” Matt interjected, trying to defuse the situation that was threatening to blow up in his face.

“… I see… this is…”

“Yeah.” Matt cut her off, not looking her or Andy in the eyes.

The woman nodded, glancing back over at Andy and the bandages around his torso. “Well… I think I should leave then… uh… yeah… good time.” She stuttered out before slipping past the singer, hurrying down the street to her car.

Matt hung his head, bracing himself for whatever Andy was about to do. Waiting for the screaming to start, or even a punch to the face. Whatever it was, he deserved it. He’d never seen the man look so hurt before, and to make matters worse, Sarah probably thought he was a jackass too. Not only had he lied to her but then his ex shows up with broken ribs; who knows what she thought about him now.

“Andy…”

“Really?! That’s what you were doing?” Andy choked out, his voice teetering on the edge of hysteria.

Matt forced himself to pick his head up, seeing the tears falling down the younger man’s face. “Andy, please… please don’t cry…” he pleaded.

“Fuck you.” Andy gasped, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of his jacket.

It felt like he’d been shot in the chest. His stomach clenching and making him feel sick at the thought of what Matt had been doing. Now he understood why he’d lied about what he was doing, the only question was how long had it been going on? Was it a one-night stand or had Matt already moved on?

“Andy, we’re not even together. You can’t get upset about this.” The older man regretted the words the second he spoke them. Cursing his drunk brain for being stupid enough to think that would calm the singer down.

“Why the fuck were you at the show last night then?! Why did you stay with me at the hospital and promise to be there for me?” Anger was starting to overshadow the hurt in the younger man’s voice.

Matt rubbed his temples, a headache starting to form from all the yelling and booze. “Fucking hell… you don’t need to yell. I was there because no one else was going to be, Andy. You don’t have any other friends.”

Andy blinked in shock, the bluntness in Matt’s comment unlike him. He could smell the alcohol on the guitarist, realizing that the man was drunk. While he was suffering and having panic attacks alone in a hotel room, Matt was getting drunk and hooking up with strangers.

“Apparently I don’t have you either! I called you and you fucking hung up on me! For what? To fuck some cheap whore?” The singer yelled, motioning in the direction the woman had run off to.

“Stop fucking yelling, you’re going to wake the whole complex up,” Matt growled. Andy had a lot of nerve to show up at his doorstep to lecture him on the very thing he’d made a name for himself doing.

“I’m not your servant, Andy. You texted me wanting booze, which you’re not supposed to have right now. Not because you missed me, or because you wanted _me_ there. Only because _you_ wanted something from me.” The older man snapped, ripping into the man in front of him.

Andy opened his mouth to defend himself, but Matt cut him off. “No, I’m not done. We’re not together, you had no right to show up at my house. You have no right to call that girl a whore, and you have no room to criticize anyone.”

The words stung like razors blades slicing through the younger man’s skin. He didn’t know what he expected coming over in the middle of the night. He’d acted in the heat of the moment, not caring what the consequences were.

“Did you not come to the show trying to get me back? Hm? You know... had you not shown up maybe I wouldn’t have shattered my fucking ribs” Andy accused, the pain in his side intensifying with each breath.

Matt laughed, shaking his head in disgust. “I know you’re not trying to pin your own stupid decisions on me. Wow… no, _babe_ , if you didn't drink an entire bottle of whiskey and do blow before the show you wouldn’t be like this.”

“And, actually, I came there to talk to you and come to an agreement to be civil with each other for the sake of being on the same tour. Being a mature, rational adult about things.” Matt corrected the man, crossing his arms across his chest.

All the emotions were hitting Andy full force. Without the mask of alcohol to numb him to the pain, it was overwhelming. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, struggling to get enough air into his lungs with each shallow breath. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go, he’d never seen this side of Matt before. He was cold and emotionless like he didn’t feel anything anymore.

“And to think I believed you when you said you loved me...” Andy whispered, debating if he should walk away.

“I _did_ love you. The problem was you didn’t love me back.” Matt stated, impressed that the man was still trying to manipulate the situation to make him look like the bad guy.

“I do love you!” Andy shouted, wincing at the pain it caused.

“No… you don’t. Andy, when was the last time you asked me how I was feeling? Whether I was happy or not? Name one thing you’ve done for me besides lay on your back. And fuck, you stopped even doing that.” If Andy wanted the truth, then he would get it. He might as well get the most out of his trip over here.

The singer’s jaw dropped at the comment, clenching his fists. He didn’t know if he was madder at Matt or himself for letting him in.

“Watch what you fucking say to me,” Andy warned, stepping up to the guitarist. His icy blue eyes staring intently at the man.

Matt rolled his eyes at the display of bravado. “What are you going to do? Fight me? You know what? Get the fuck off my porch… leave.” The conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

Andy wasn’t going to admit to any of his shortcomings, he wasn’t even hearing the words Matt was saying. Too busy coming up with the next thing he was going to say. It was useless.

Matt raised an eyebrow, waiting for Andy to either shoot back some more bullshit excuses or admit defeat and walk away. Instead, he stood there, not moving a muscle until he finally let out a sigh. His shoulders dropping and his expression softening. He bit at his lip ring, his gaze casting down to the ground.

“Fuck…” The older man groaned under his breath. No matter how hard he tried to not give a shit anymore and cut ties, he couldn’t.

Andy still had a death grip on his heart. After all the bullshit he had put up with, all the fights and disappointments. He still loved the man, clinging to the memories of when things were easier. Andy kissing him outside of the venue, goofing around on tour together. And one of his most cherished memories, the night Andy said ‘I love you’ for the first time. The hotel room that night where he somehow fell even deeper into love with him. The one time he truly felt Andy’s heart.

When he looked at the singer’s face those were the times he thought of. Behind all the masks he wore, Matt had seen the real person.

“Goddamnit… look… just come inside. It’s fucking late. You can sleep on the couch and tomorrow when I’m sober, I’ll take you back to the hotel.” Matt broke. Andy was too hurt to be waiting around for a cab or trying to walk back.

The singer was silent as he walked through the doorway, and into the living room. Matt shut the door, thankful for the silence. He was shooting himself in the foot, but it was the easiest way to end the situation. He was starting to feel a hangover coming on from all the shots and the thought of any more yelling made his head throb.

“If your medications wear off, there’s Advil in the kitchen…” The older man said, not making eye contact with Andy as he walked back to his bedroom.

He shut the door behind himself, crawling into his empty bed.

Andy woke up to dull aching pain in his side, moaning as he sat up. His back and neck were stiff from sleeping on the couch, popping as he straightened his back. Sun was pouring in through the curtains, birds chirping outside. The singer got up, slowly hobbling into the kitchen to find the Advil.

He poured a couple into his hand, not bothering to count them before tossing them back. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, secretly hoping to find some form of alcohol. Both the fridge and freezer were void of anything except some sodas, expired milk, and frozen dinners.

The singer had almost given up hope of finding anything when he stumbled upon a couple of airplane bottles of vodka in one of the drawers. Andy wrinkled his nose at the thought of doing a shot of vodka at ten in the morning, but after the night he had it was a necessary evil.

The clear liquid burned as it went down his throat, a feeling he’d actually missed. He chased it with a swig of cola before tossing the bottle in the trash. It wasn’t enough to get him drunk by any means, but hopefully, enough to cut down some of the anxiety.

Andy walked over to the guitarist’s bedroom door, debating if he should try and talk to the man. He knew he’d acted a little psychotic and he felt guilty for it. It probably wouldn’t do much good, but he wanted to apologize.

Through the wooden door, he could hear what sounded like someone throwing up. He bit his lip, his hand on the doorknob. If anyone knew how much hangovers sucked it was him. The words Matt had said the night before kept replaying in his mind. Matt thought he didn’t care about him…

Andy turned the doorknob, slipping inside. The lights were off in the bedroom and connected bathroom, thick blackout curtains blocking the windows.

“Matt…” The singer called the older man’s name.

Matt was propped up against the toilet, his dark brown hair covering his face. He looked miserable. “Jesus fucking Christ… what do you want?” he groaned, not moving.

The pain killers and vodka were starting to kick in, lessening the pain in Andy’s side enough that he could sit down beside the man. “Are you okay?”

Matt lifted his head up, too hungover to try and figure out what Andy was up to. “I’m fucking hungover… just let me be.”

Andy turned away as the older man got sick again, trying not to gag himself. Thinking back to all the mornings Matt had spent the same way with him, the roles reversed. Never complaining; taking care of him until the hangover passed.

Matt felt Andy’s fingertips running up and down his spine. His muscles automatically relaxing at the calming feeling. He closed his eyes, trying to quell the throbbing in his head. Kicking himself for getting as drunk as he did.

He was wary of Andy’s intentions, his gut telling him the singer was only trying to make up for his behavior the night before. Or somehow trying to win him back after seeing him with Sarah. He was too miserable and exhausted to question it.

The older man laid down, feeling dizzy. Resting his head on Andy’s lap. Almost falling asleep as Andy stroked his hair. Matt tried to remind himself that the man’s thoughtfulness wasn’t permeant, but deep down he wished it was. He had lied to the singer when he said he ‘ _did’_ love him. There were no past tenses to his feelings, he still loved Andy. Even if Andy wasn’t good for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love hearing everyone's thoughts on the story. Do you think Matt or Andy is in the wrong? Or both?


	6. Over and Over Again

**Chapter Six: Over and Over Again**

Matt gripped the steering wheel tighter, the rush hour traffic even worse than normal. He still felt like shit from his night of drinking. The closer he got to thirty, the longer it took him to bounce back after going overboard. After barely sleeping the last place he wanted to be was stuck in a traffic jam. He sighed, leaning back in his seat. Why didn’t he make Andy catch a cab back to the hotel?

“Mm…” Andy groaned from the passenger’s seat. Turning onto his good side.

The older man glanced over at the singer who seemed to be in a fair amount of pain. Andy had the seat reclined all the way back, one hand resting over his hurt ribs. Matt tried to remind himself that the reason he was in pain was because of his stupid decision to show up unannounced. Apparently not having thought to bring his medications with him.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, breaking the silence between them.

“My ribs hurt…” Andy replied, shifting around in his seat.

“Well… why didn’t you bring your pills with you?”

Andy didn’t like how cold and short Matt was being with him. He knew he fucked up; Matt was right to be upset with him. But he had his heart broken, wasn’t that payback enough?

“I didn’t think about that…” The younger man spoke quietly, focusing his gaze on the cars ahead of them. “I mean it’s not like I planned on staying the night… I didn’t even know if you were home.”

“We still have to talk about boundaries. You can’t act like that.” The guitarist stated, adjusting his sunglasses as the traffic finally started to move.

“I know… and I’m sorry. Really…” Andy chewed at his lip ring, the apology not appearing to phase the older man.

“I told you I would be back to the hotel eventually. But I can’t spend every waking minute with you… I have a life too, Andy.” Matt pulled off the highway, onto the exit ramp. Thankful that the hotel was only a few more minutes away.

“I appreciate your concern this morning but… that doesn’t fix things.” He couldn’t let himself be pulled back in by one day of good behavior.

He’d made that mistake too many times. Thinking that the other man would actually change his ways when really Andy was just buying time. As much as he loved him, he couldn’t subject himself to that pain again. For a moment when he was laying in the singer’s lap, he’d indulged the thought of trying again. But that was wishful thinking. Perhaps he and Andy could be friends again, but anything more was a recipe for disaster.

“You said last night that I don’t care about you… but I do, Matt.” Andy spoke, his voice quiet and small.

“Do you care about me, or do you care about yourself and not being alone?” The guitarist asked, turning into the parking lot. 

“Of course, I care about you… I love you.” Andy’s words caused the older man’s heart to skip a beat.

He wanted to believe Andy more than anything. He wanted to think that if he gave the man another chance it wouldn’t blow up in his face. But if he did, what would happen? When Andy healed would he go back to his old habits? Blacking out, destroying his body, and taking anyone who cared about him down with him?

“You may… but you suck at showing it. Look… I don’t hate you, Andy. But maybe us being together wasn’t a good idea…” Matt turned the engine off, not making a move to get out of the car.

Andy could feel a lump forming in his throat. He knew if he tried to say anything else, he would break down into tears. He couldn’t take any more rejection.

“I’ll help you inside. Then I’ve got to go, I’m still exhausted.” The older man stated, getting out of the car and walking around to the passenger’s side.

Matt offered his hand, helping the singer to his feet. Andy winced as a sharp pain shot across his back from the change of positions. Having to hold onto the guitarist’s arms to steady himself, seeing black spots for a minute. His body was at the end of its rope. Broken, lacking nutrients, and sleep-deprived. A part of him didn’t blame Matt for not wanting to be together, he was a fucking wreck.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah… just dizzy,” Andy answered, gathering his strength to walk on his own.

Matt stayed a few paces ahead of him as they made their way into the hotel. Passing through the lobby and hallways until coming to the singer’s room. The older man stopped outside the door, motioning to it.

“Well… I hope you’re able to get some rest… I think we both need it after last night.” He sighed, not looking Andy in the eyes.

“Please stay…” Andy whispered, afraid that if Matt left, he wouldn’t be coming back at all. Hoping that there was still a part of him that _wanted_ to stay.

“Andy… goddamn it… I’m exhausted.” Matt rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“There are two beds…” Andy pressed, sticking his key card into the door.

“Why? Why do you want me to stay? What do you think is going to happen if I do?” The guitarist asked, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. 

“Because you said you would… you said you would be here for me.” Andy pushed the door open, pausing to look the older man in the eyes.

“And you told me you didn’t need me less than seventy-two hours ago. I already tried this, Andy. I came to the show to work things out with you… to salvage whatever we could. But _you_ didn’t want to do that.”

“You know I didn’t mean that…” The lightheaded feeling wasn’t passing, causing the singer to have to lean on the doorframe for balance.

Matt was torn. The truth was that he wanted to stay, as bad as the other man was for him, it didn’t stop his heart from yearning. Andy probably thought Sarah was proof he’d gotten over him. A sign that the older man had moved on, but he was wrong. He only found in Sarah what he wanted to find from Andy. She couldn’t compare to the singer.

Matt brushed his hair back, the fatigue clouding his judgment. Andy looked miserable and clearly in pain. He needed someone to help him. Sure, his mom could help him, but she didn’t know the full story. She didn’t know the extent of how far down her son had fallen. Those problems didn’t go away when his ribs broke, Matt knew better than to think that.

Andy looked like he was going to pass out. Who knew when the last time he ate was or even drank something. He was never going to get better if he didn’t take proper care of himself, and historically that was not something he was good at doing. Matt knew he would kick himself for staying, but if he went home all he would do would be worry about the man.

“Fine… but you’re eating something, taking your meds, and going to sleep. Deal?” Matt gave in.

Matt glanced over at the singer periodically, making sure he was actually eating and not just picking at the slice of pizza on his plate. It had been quiet between them for the most part, for which Matt was thankful. Andy hadn’t tried to continue their conversation from earlier, mostly just flipping through channels until the delivery man arrived. So far, he’d been good, he’d taken his pain meds and was eating. Still, Matt did trust it. How much longer until he was asking for liquor or starting another fight?

He felt like he’d aged five years over the past couple of days from all the stress. If this was any indication of what the next few weeks were going to be like he didn’t know if he’d make it. The older man closed his eyes, the fatigue still heavy in his bones. Almost falling asleep before the sound of Andy struggling to get out of bed forced him to open his eyes.

“Where are you going?” Matt asked, suspicious of the man’s intentions.

“To shower” Andy answered, managing to stand up on his own.

“Let me help you, I don’t want you slipping and falling or some shit.” Matt’s whole body felt heavy as he stood up, the fatigue causing every muscle in his legs to scream.

Andy opened his mouth to insist that he didn’t need help, he was injured, not a fucking child. Then the realization hit him. Matt wasn’t insisting on helping him because he thought he couldn’t, it was because he didn’t trust him to be in there alone.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” Andy asked, following the guitarist into the bathroom. “Jesus… I have three broken ribs you think I would seriously try anything like that?”

Matt turned the shower on, sticking his hand under the stream until it was warm enough. He shrugged, hanging a towel over the curtain rod. “I didn’t think you’d do it right before going on stage either, but you did…”

Andy shook his head, carefully peeling his shirt off before ripping the bandages off his waist as well. “So, you’re going to watch me shower?” the singer questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Matt took a seat on the counter, crossing his arms. “Don’t make it sound creepy, but yeah I’m going to sit here.”

He ignored Andy’s comments muttered under his breath, averting his eyes to his phone as the singer stripped off the rest of his clothes. If he didn’t get sleep soon then his exhaustion was going to cause him to make some bad decisions.

Matt grabbed the gauze and bandages from the dresser, setting them on the bed beside the younger man. Andy’s torso looked painful with all the deep purple and blue bruises, looking worse than the first night.

The guitarist tried to focus on the bandages, and not Andy’s half-naked body lying on the bed in front of him. Matt’s fingers brushed against the man’s stomach as he wrapped it with gauze, sending a jolt through the older man’s heart.

“Ah-” Andy winced, his hand shooting out to grab the older man’s when he applied too much pressure.

“Shit… sorry.” Matt apologized, letting his hand linger underneath the singer’s, his eyes going up to meet Andy’s.

Andy’s fingers curled around his and for a moment Matt thought about pulling them away. Stopping things before they could go any farther, but instead, he left them there. Turning his palm over so that their hands were locked together.

“It’s okay…” Andy whispered, his voice sending a shiver down the guitarist’s spine.

“Well… we should both probably get some sleep now…” Matt said, cursing himself for getting turned on.

“Yeah…” Andy breathed; his eyes locked on the older man’s.

Matt pulled back before he had the chance to give in. The urge to crawl into bed with the singer and throw common sense to the wind was strong. He missed the feeling of Andy’s skin against his, the taste of his lips, and the smell of his cologne. One night of pleasure wasn’t worth the fighting, the stress, and the pain that being with him brought.

Just a few one more week and tour would start. They would be on separate buses with separate schedules. That was if Andy was able to tour at all. He just needed to keep his resolve until then.

Andy stared up at the ceiling, the hours ticking by on the alarm clock beside him. Unable to fall asleep, his mind racing. It was mostly a loop of self-criticism. Beating himself up for acting like a psycho the previous night, for getting hurt, and for fucking up one of the only good things in his life. How despite all the negative consequences he’d faced, he still couldn’t get his shit together.

Matt had loved him so much; he’d been kind and understanding when no one else had been. He was fairly confident Matt was the only person he’d been with that genuinely cared. Yet, he had exhausted it. Even managed to squander the last chance he had for Matt to be in his life at all, choosing pride over happiness.

The dam walls burst as Andy drew in a sharp breath, tears falling down his pale cheeks. He covered his mouth, trying to drown out the sound of his cries. His heart felt like it was shattering and without any alcohol to numb the pain it was hard to bear.

The sound of muffled sobs made the older man’s chest hurt, unable to fall back asleep knowing the man he loved (and still loved) was in pain. He could only imagine how alone the singer felt. And although a lot of that was of Andy’s own doing, it still tugged at his heartstrings.

He laid there in the dark, waiting for Andy to exhaust himself and fall asleep. So that his own feelings of guilt would subside, but he didn’t. With each painful gasp for breath he heard, Matt felt a shot go through his heart. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Andy felt the bed dip beside him, two tattooed arms wrapping around him carefully. His body relaxing at the familiar presence, calming down enough to even his breathing.

Matt kissed the top of the younger man’s head, feeling his own anxiety ease with Andy in his arms. Conversations could be had in the morning; the day had been hard enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. The last few weeks of classes have been very busy with my final exam in anatomy. But I have a couple of weeks before my next class starts so I'll be updating more often again! Thank you to everyone reading this and my Andy/Ronnie fic <3


	7. Teardrops

**Chapter Seven: Teardrops**

****Matt woke up in a haze, still groggy from sleep. After all the stress and bullshit he'd dealt with over the past week a good night's sleep was what he'd needed. The guitarist looked down at the man curled up next to him, Andy's long hair partially obscuring his face.

Was it a coincidence that the best sleep he'd gotten in a long time was with Andy next to him? He stroked the singer's hair, fixing his eyes on the ceiling. This should be every morning, waking up next to each other in bed. That was the way Matt had envisioned it; an apartment together where they would be free to just be. He couldn't understand why Andy didn't want that. And if he did want that, why he was so afraid to take that leap?

The older man felt Andy stir as he woke up, resting his head on Matt's chest. "Good morning... how are you feeling?" he asked, nodding to the singer's side.

"It's a little sore but... getting better," Andy replied, his bright blue eyes looking up at Matt.

"What about you? Did you sleep well?"

"Uh yeah... yeah, I feel much better now..." Matt said, cursing himself for being turned on.

The older man glanced over at the alarm clock beside the bed. They had slept through both breakfast and lunch. It was almost two in the afternoon now. Matt sighed, brushing his hair back. He knew that he should have refused the man's pleas to stay the night. Now he was in the awkward position of having to make an excuse to leave. They still hadn't talked about what had happened the other night, and with Warped only days away they needed to.

Matt knew there needed to be a serious talk about them, their relationship, and where it stands. That was partly his intention the night of the show, but things hadn't gone as planned obviously. 

"What's wrong?" Andy asked, noticing the guitarist's body language.

"You know we still need to talk about things, right?"

"You mean about that girl?" Andy asked, a hint of resentment in his tone.

"That... and other things. I don't like how we ended things, and I don't like how things went down at the show either. You were my best friend Andy... I don't want to end up hating you." Matt kicked himself for his poor word choice as Andy sat up, frowning.

"You hate me...?" Andy's voice sounded broken up.

"What? No..." Matt shook his head, propping himself up against the pillows, "I don't hate you, but... I'm worried if we don't come to some type of understanding, if this I hurt you, you hurt me bullshit doesn't stop... I will."

Andy bit his lip, looking down. "Yeah... I guess we do need to talk things out..."

"How about tonight? I can head back over to my place, shower, and change, then we can order takeout or something and talk things over? We can both say what we need to; complete honesty" Matt proposed, hoping that Andy would agree to it.

"Sure..." Andy felt too numb to put up a fight, finding it easier to just go along with it.

Waking up next to the older man had been the best feeling he'd had in a very long time. It reminded him of all the good times they'd had together. Most of all, it made him hate himself for fucking it up. He knew he'd chosen alcohol, drugs, and self-destruction over actual happiness. The reality was that he and Matt could have been together, in their own place, instead of some dingy hotel room. Forced back together by circumstances of the singer's own making.

Finding Matt with that woman was a dagger to the heart. Did that mean the man had moved on? Andy didn't think he ever could, but Matt seemed to be fine without him. Was there even anything he could say to make the man come back? He knew better than to think they could ever go back to being just friends again, but that seemed to be Matt's plan.

"Great... uh... there's that Chinese place near my house, I'll pick something up on my way over." Matt forced a smile, getting up and grabbing his wallet and shoes.

Andy watched the guitarist as he sat on the opposite bed, tying up the laces to his Converses. The one shot he'd managed to find at Matt's place the day before hadn't been nearly enough. This was the longest he'd been sober since the last tour started. There was no way he would make it through this 'talk' without something.

"Could you... pick something up to drink...?" he asked, figuring there wasn't much for him to lose.

Matt tried to control his expression and not let the disappointment in Andy's question show. He wasn't naïve, he knew that Andy hadn't been magically cured of his issues. It wouldn't surprise him if he'd had a few drinks behind his back either.

"I take it you don't mean soda... fuck uh... you know you're not supposed to drink on those medications they gave you, Andy..." Matt stalled, trying to decide if he should indulge the man or not.

"I haven't taken them today..." Andy replied, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the bedside table. Lighting one up; not really caring if the hotel allowed it or not.

"I don't want this to turn into both of us being drunk and fighting each other..."

Andy blew out a smoke ring, the nicotine settling his anxiety a bit, though not nearly enough. "Jesus... I'm not going to get blackout drunk..."

Matt drug his hands down his face, despite waking up hungover the day before he would be lying if he said he didn't want at least one drink. Andy had no intention of keeping true to that promise, Matt knew that. It would be enabling the younger man, but he had a feeling Andy would be getting drunk tonight one way or another.

"Fuck... fine..." Matt caved, knowing he was probably shooting himself in the foot.

"I'll text you when I'm on my way over." The guitarist added, before waving to the singer and letting the hotel door shut behind him.

Andy stared back at his reflection in the mirror. He'd spent the last hour trying to make himself look presentable. Washing his hair, straightening it, and putting some makeup on. He doubted there was any use in trying to change the older man's mind, but it was worth a shot. Looking semi-put together might be a good start in convincing Matt that he could change.

The singer lifted the bottom of his shirt, turning to the side and inspecting his torso. He hadn't bothered to re-bandage himself, choosing instead to go without them. The bruises were starting to fade, although his skin was still discolored by the green and yellow splotches.

Andy poked at his stomach, frowning at how bloated it looked. It was a side effect of the medications the doctors had given him, hence why he'd decided to forgo them for now.

"You look fucking pregnant..." he said to himself, readjusting the waistband of his skinny jeans.

He let his shirt fall back down again, trying to force his mind to stop thinking about it. Telling himself that once he was on tour again and jumping around on stage it would go back to normal. Wasn't like there was much he could do about it now with three broken ribs...

A knock at the door diverted his attention; flipping the lights in the bathroom off as he made his way over to open it. His ribs ached as he pulled the heavy door back. He was starting to feel the effects of not taking his pain medications. Hopefully, the alcohol Matt had in his hand would numb that.

"Hey, so I got fried rice, orange chicken, and some egg rolls. Oh... and Seagram's." Matt held up the takeout bag and bottle of whiskey.

Andy smiled, even though his heart was racing in his chest and his stomach was doing flips. The older man walked in, setting the food and alcohol on the table before opening the blinds to let the last of the dimming sunlight in.

The singer sat down in one of the chairs, watching as Matt divided the food up between two takeout containers. It smelled wonderful, but Andy was more focused on the bottle sitting beside the man.

Matt eyed Andy as he pushed the food around with his chopsticks, only taking an occasional bite. He didn't want to say anything, but he didn't like what it might mean. Andy had reframed from his normal self-destructive behaviors since he'd gotten hurt. How long would that last though? Speaking of which, he was starting to second guess his decision to bring alcohol, there was no way it would lead to anything good. Besides, he needed to be able to drive back to his place tonight. A drunken night together would only lead to more heartache.

"Do you not like it?" Matt asked, raising an eyebrow as Andy pushed the food aside.

"Oh? It's fine... I'm just not very hungry... kind of hard to be right now..." The younger man answered, eluding the elephant in the room.

"Mhm... yeah." Matt opened the bottle of whiskey, taking a quick shot before handing it to Andy against his better judgment.

The familiar burn instantly calmed the singer's nerves as he took a generous shot before setting the bottle back down. Readying himself for whatever it was Matt planned on telling him.

The older man sighed, figuring it was best to just get to the point of things. "The other night Andy... you know what you did wasn't okay, right? We're not together anymore... you had no right to show up unannounced and then get mad at me for having someone over."

Andy crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. "I know... sorry I ruined your little date." His voice had a hint of spite to it, a way of hiding his true emotions. Whether he had a _right_ or not didn't matter, finding Matt with some random woman had shattered his heart.

Matt rolled his eyes, _what a wonderful way to start this off_ , he thought to himself. "It wasn't a date. I was at the bar; she was working, and I don't know... it was just a one-time hookup. Sorry, I wanted to actually feel wanted by someone for a change."

Andy's jaw dropped at the snide remark, the comment digging into his skin. "You don't think I want you? I practically begged you to stay last night."

"That's the thing, Andy. You only want me because you don't want to be _alone_. You showed almost zero interest in how I felt the entire relationship; what _I_ needed." Matt took another drink from the bottle, trying to calm himself down. He didn't want this to turn into a fight right out of the gates.

"It's always about you. Your problems, your insecurities, your needs. You never stopped to think about how maybe I want to feel loved and wanted." He continued, a lump forming in his throat as he watched Andy's stone-cold face. Devoid of emotion or any reaction.

"Is this about moving in together? I'm sorry that you wanted to move so fast after dating for a couple of fucking months. With zero thought to how fucked we'd both be if it didn't work out." Andy retorted.

"You want to know why I'm so cautious? Because look what happened. I trusted you... I took a chance and I trusted you. Then you left me... you broke my heart and left me when I fucking needed you the most." Andy's emotions were threatening to break him. Matt had no idea what he dealt with on a daily basis.

"I _had_ to leave Andy. I wasn't going to watch you fucking kill yourself. I was so patient with you. I gave you so many fucking chances. Even at the start of this shit... your fucking bipolar back and forth indecisiveness about wanting me or not. And I waited for you... because I loved you."

Andy's grip on the bottle of whiskey tightened at the past tense usage of 'love'. Letting the bitter liquid numb him as he took another shot. "Sorry I couldn't just turn that shit off. Don't you think I would if I could? I'm glad you've got life figured out Matt... really that must be so fucking wonderful for you."

"Drop the fucking act, Andy. You fucking put these walls up and don't let anyone in. No wonder you're alone! You can't keep covering up your issues with booze forever!" Matt raised his voice, Andy's refusal to show emotion starting to piss him off.

"You can't even admit you've got problems. Do you think it's normal to get blackout drunk all the time? Do you think it's healthy to stick your fingers down your throat to the point that you're throwing up blood? Jesus fucking Christ... but sure... I'm the fucking problem." Matt rolled his eyes, the conversation only reminding him why he ended things.

"Shut the fuck up, I don't need a fucking lecture from you. If this is just another attempt to try and get me to go to rehab you can fucking leave." Andy snapped.

Was this the talk that was supposed to make things civil between them? How was this any benefit to either of them? Rehashing the past hurt just to have an excuse to reopen those wounds? Andy didn't want any part of that.

"It's hilarious to me you know... all the begging and crying you did to try and manipulate me into staying... and the one thing you wouldn't do was the one thing that could have saved us. You refused to actually get _help_." Matt laughed sarcastically, unable to even look in the singer's direction.

"That's what hurt me, Andy. You wouldn't give up your toxic coping mechanisms for me... that wasn't enough motivation for you to try and save yourself. You love being sick more than you loved me..."

Matt watched as Andy turned away, hiding his face behind a veil of black hair. The front he'd managed to keep up the whole conversation, finally cracking. Tears falling down his cheeks; it made Matt's own eyes start to water. He would do anything to take the pain Andy felt away, free him of the demons that kept him shackled.

"T-That's not true..." Andy gasped, his voice quiet and broken. "I don't love being this way... I-I know I'm fucked up. I love you so much, Matt... and that scares me because I don't know how to stop myself from fucking things up..."

Andy's bright blue eyes were red from crying, the exhaustion showing in them. The alcohol flowing through Matt's veins made him weak. The instinct to wrap his arms around the man and never let go was threatening to break his resolve.

"I-I'll get help... whatever you want... whatever will make you love me again..." The singer pleaded, and for a moment Matt saw a hint of sincerity in the younger man's eyes.

"Andy... I'm always going to fucking love you... I've loved you for longer than you think... but that doesn't mean we're good for each other. You should get help, and I'll help you do that. But don't do it for me, it has to be for you. You have to want to get better regardless of me, that's the only way it will work." Matt sighed, running his hands down his face. This was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be.

He hadn't expected Andy to actually offer to get help. He'd given up hope of that a long time ago, but a part of him didn't trust it. Andy was desperate, he would say anything to get his way. Only actions would speak the truth.

"We're not getting back together, Andy. You're not healthy... you need to focus on yourself, not on a relationship. I'm not saying that we can't be friends... maybe that will take some time but... it's the best decision for both of us." Matt added, knowing it wasn't what Andy wanted to hear.

Andy had stopped crying. He was silent, his gaze fixed on the carpet. Too heartbroken to process the words Matt was saying. Never again would he open his heart to someone, _never fucking again_. He wouldn't open himself up to this kind of pain again, the type that even alcohol couldn't fix. Matt said he didn't love him enough to get better, well he hadn't loved _him_ enough to hold on.

"Okay... we're over," Andy whispered in defeat, shrugging. "I'm going to get blackout fucking drunk now... you're done, right? Talk's over?" He scoffed, grabbing the bottle before standing up, walking over to the bed with it.

Matt swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from breaking. His heart felt like it was in a million pieces. Andy had no idea how hard those words were for him to say. How badly he wanted to hold onto the singer and never let go, even if that meant drowning himself. Originally, he had planned to go back to his place. Try and get some sleep before the tour started, process his own emotions, and try to heal.

He was going to be stuck on tour with the singer for three months. God knows what that would bring. Blacking out sounded like a wonderful fucking idea... 


	8. I'll Make War To You

**Chapter Eight: I’ll Make War to You**

Matt held his head in his hands, not moving from the table even after Andy’s bitchy comment. It infuriated him that they couldn’t even have a simple conversation without it turning into a petty fight. That the man couldn’t muster the maturity to articulate his feelings and instead resorted to yelling, crying, and begging. It still seemed lost on the singer that his actions hurt the people who loved him. What he hadn’t heard from Andy was that he was sorry for all the hurt and pain he’d caused him. A thank you for all the things Matt did for him, for being there when no one else was. For _still_ being there when he had more than enough reason to leave for good.

He glanced between his fingers at the younger man; Andy was on his phone, alternating between texting and taking shots of whiskey.

“God, I can’t fucking stand you…” The guitarist laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“Then why are you still here?” Andy smirked sarcastically, the alcohol only making him feistier.

“I’m waiting for you to realize that you’re being a child and have a mature conversation with me. Guess I’m wasting my time, maybe I should just stoop to your level instead.” Matt stood up, walking over to the man, and taking the bottle of whiskey from him.

Andy grabbed for it, pulling back in pain when his ribs pressed into the bed causing him to wince. “Give that back!”

“What if I just started acting like you? Get blackout drunk anytime I feel an emotion I don’t want to deal with?” Matt tipped the bottle back, downing enough of the bitter liquid to kill any rational thoughts left in his head.

Andy glared at him, rolling his eyes. “Now who’s being childish?” he huffed.

“Now you know how I feel dealing with you.” The older man retorted, flopping down on the adjacent bed.

In his head, he told himself he was just giving Andy a taste of his own medicine in the hopes that it would make him see how stupid he was acting. In reality, though, he knew he was buying more time with him. Not having the strength to actually walk out and partially wanting to numb the void that had been growing in his heart since they broke up.

“At least I’m not stupid enough to think us being _just_ _friends_ again is possible.” Andy snatched the bottle from the bedside table, taking another swig.

“You’re right, it was stupid of me to think you could be that much of an adult.” Matt groaned, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the peace intoxication was bringing him.

Andy turned over onto his good side, his eyes set on the guitarist. All the animosity that Matt had towards him, was it really over the fact that he thought he didn’t want him? That he somehow loved the darkest parts of his mind more than the man? Of course, Andy knew how much he was hurting Matt with his behavior, but he was powerless to stop it. At least that’s how it felt, twenty years of trying to change his brain hadn’t gotten him very far.

He could feel the alcohol clouding his judgment, lowering his inhibitions to a dangerous level. There was no way their friendship would ever come out intact, too much damage had been done. How do you go from saying ‘I love you’ and planning to move in together to being ‘ _just friends_ ’ again? Andy was confident his feelings for the man would never change, it would always hurt to see Matt in any context except as a lover.

For over a year they pretended things wouldn’t get to this place; that they wouldn’t end up crossing those lines. Matt wanted to go back to pretending? Who was the stupid one now?

Andy knew this was it for them. If Matt had decided he was done, then he guessed they would just be jaded ex-lovers. So why not burn it all down in one last hurrah? That was his style anyway. Matt thought he didn’t want him? Couldn’t be emotionally present? He would show him exactly what he was giving up. Fuck it all.

The singer stood up, downing the rest of the whiskey before setting it on the bedside table with a thud. Matt’s eyes opened as he looked the younger man up and down, wondering what on earth he was trying to do.

“What are you doing, go lay back down before you get hurt again.” He warned, sitting up.

“Shut up…” Andy rolled his eyes, pushing the man back down onto the bed, climbing on top of him.

“Andy- what the fuck are you doing…” Matt asked, grabbing the singer’s forearms to keep him from going any farther with whatever it was he had planned.

“You fucked some whore because you didn’t feel _wanted_ by me? You think I don’t want you?” Andy raised an eyebrow; his voice had an edge to it that made the older man’s pants grow tighter.

Matt laughed, trying to distract himself from the drunken mess on top of him. “You cannot be serious right now… one, this is a terrible fucking idea. Two, you have three broken ribs.”

“My ribs will be fine. If we’re truly over… then fuck it. Might as well have one more fucking go, right?” Andy propositioned.

Matt bit his bottom lip, knowing that if he were even the least bit sober, he would put a stop to this. They were both going to get themselves even more hurt. Only making it harder to be around each other on Warped and only making it harder to move on. That was probably Andy’s plan though, Matt wasn’t too fucked up that he didn’t realize that. Still… he’d never wanted to make a worse decision before.

“I guess so… might as well get one good thing out of tonight, right?” Matt replied, letting go of the grip he had on the man’s arms. 

Matt let his eyes slip shut as Andy kissed up his neck, the singer’s leg’s straddling his hips. He slid his hands up Andy’s thighs, rubbing them through his skinny jeans. The soft little moans that escaped Andy’s lips made the guitarist weak; it had been so long since he’d heard them.

His hands moved up to the singer’s face, cupping it gently in between them. Andy leaned into his touch and Matt felt his heart melt when the man’s crystal blue eyes met his again. Andy ignored the pain in his ribs as he brought his lips within inches of the guitarist’s.

Lacing his fingers in Andy’s hair, Matt closed the distance between them. Rolling Andy onto his good side as their lips moved together; losing his shirt in the process. He could feel the passion behind the kiss, it felt genuine, not at all like it was all part of some act. Matt broke the kiss, holding the singer close and burying his face in Andy’s hair. Wanting to savor the moment and the feeling of actually being connected to him.

He felt the muscles of his back relax as Andy’s fingertips traced circles over his skin. Matt could feel a lump forming in his throat as he held the younger man, his mind going back to the first night they were together. How happy he’d been that night; how happy they _both_ had been. Then to thoughts of the first time they met when Matt knew instantly that Andy was going to be someone special in his life. Stradling a rail in some random venue’s parking lot, before the industry had a chance to crush the boy’s soul.

_Fuck, I’m never going to get over you_ , he thought to himself.

Matt tried his best to pull himself out of his head, focusing instead on undressing the singer. Managing to slide his impossibly tight jeans off before pulling Andy back on top of him. He felt the man tense up as he tried to lift his shirt off, for a second thinking that Andy might have changed his mind before realizing why. The same reason he hardly touched any of his dinner, because his demons truly never left him alone. Andy was on a self-destructive binge again, and here he was enabling it.

“F-Fuck…” Matt moaned, his breath hitching in his throat at the feeling of Andy’s lips around his cock.

The older man brushed the singer’s hair to the side, stroking it gently. Andy had no idea that Sarah couldn’t even begin to compare with him. She was just a substitute for him, yet he was jealous of her? Did that mean Andy genuinely loved him or did he just not want anyone else to have his attention?

“Goddamn it, Andy… come on…” Matt groaned, tugging on the man’s hair.

If he let him go any longer, he wasn’t going to be able to hold back. Matt guided Andy’s hips, making sure not to move his hands higher up. He was pretty sure this was not what the doctor had meant by ‘bed rest’.

“Ah- fuck…” The singer gasped as he felt Matt push into him. He had underestimated how much the whiskey would kill the pain in his ribs.

He placed his hands on the older man’s chest to steady himself, ignoring the aching in his side as he moved his hips with Matt’s. He knew he would pay for this tomorrow, both in the form of a hangover and heartbreak. More than likely with physical pain too, but he had become accustomed to that over the past week.

Was he doing this in some vain hope that Matt would come back to him for good? Of course, he was. It wasn’t all just a manipulative scheme though, he wanted to feel close to the man. Even if it was only for one last night, and even if it was the worst thing he could be doing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” Matt whispered, his nails digging into the singer’s skin.

Andy could feel the familiar sensation in his gut building, bracing one hand against the bed frame as he used the other to stroke himself. He winced as the guitarist’s thrust became deeper and harder, feeling faint from the mix of pleasure and pain.

“Fuck I’m so close-” The older man moaned, his eyes slipping shut as he felt himself starting to come.

Andy’s gasps and moans were enough to send him over the edge, holding onto the singer’s hips as he came deep inside the man. Feeling Andy tense around him as he came at the same time, yelling the older man’s name loud enough to wake up anyone in the adjacent rooms.

“Jesus… fucking hell.” Matt panted out of breath, still riding the high of his orgasm as he pulled out of the younger man.

Andy collapsed on the bed beside him, groaning as the endorphins wore off and he was left with shooting pain in his back. Matt pulled the singer against him, careful not to put pressure on his injured side.

Andy rested his head on the older man’s chest, listening to the sound of Matt’s heartbeat. A hollow feeling creeping into his own chest as he realized it might be the last time he would ever lay in the man’s arms.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?” Matt asked, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do now. It felt wrong to just leave… even if that was the smart idea.

“Oh? Uh… no, I’m fine…” Andy responded, looking up at the man.

“Good…” Matt forced a smile before looking up at the ceiling. Unable to look the younger man in the eyes.

“I love you…” Andy whispered, almost faintly enough that Matt couldn’t hear him. He thought about pretending he hadn’t, not knowing what to say back.

He loved Andy more than anything else in the fucking universe, but he couldn’t go back on everything he had said. Loving Andy hadn’t healed him, it hadn’t encouraged him to seek help, and saying it back to him now wasn’t going to help him either. It would just enable him, and he had done enough of that for one night.

“Andy… no, we can’t say that anymore… okay?” Matt sighed, breaking his own heart as the words left his lips.

“… so, you really mean it? We’re really over?” Andy’s voice portrayed the hurt he felt, the sound of a broken man who had lost almost everything.

That was the thing Matt wanted him to get. He wasn’t at rock bottom yet, he had so much more he could lose. His career, his family, his health, and whatever was left of his sanity. The threat of that didn’t seem to faze him, nothing was worth making any type of effort to save it seemed. At the rate Andy was going, Matt wasn’t sure he’d make it to his 21st birthday. So how did Andy expect him to sit there and watch that happen?

“Us in this context is… it has to be,” Matt replied.

Andy let in a pained breath as he tried to wipe away the tears threatening to fall. “Can you at least stay tonight...”

“Well I don’t really have a choice… do I? I drove here and now I’m fucking drunk… I’ll leave in the morning…” Matt turned onto his side, facing the singer. 

“How are we supposed to go back to being just friends… after everything?” Andy whispered, a couple of tears falling down his cheeks.

“I don’t know… I guess like we did before… I’ve never really been friends with any of my exes before.” Matt admitted, using his thumb to wipe the singer’s tears away.

Matt wrapped an arm around Andy, pulling him in close before tugging the covers up over them both. It felt like his heart and brain were going to war with each other.

This was about to be the hardest tour of his career.


	9. Not the American Average

**Chapter Nine: Not the American Average**

Andy adjusted his sunglasses, trying his best to ignore the pain radiating from inside his skull. A hospital bracelet still wrapped around his wrist from the day before. The doctor at the hospital had warned him against starting the tour for at least another week, but in typical Andy fashion, he hadn't taken the man's advice. His ribs were still sore and moving the wrong way still sent a jolt through his side. If he was careful, he could make it through the band's thirty-minute set. What he hadn't anticipated was just how miserable it would be waking up before noon, walking around in the Summer heat all day, and nursing three broken ribs at the same time.

The first day hadn't been too bad, they had a later set and he was riding the high of being back on tour. The second day had been harder, hotter, and featured a lovely hangover courtesy of the BBQ from the night before. Now on his third day, he was dying; he'd spent the previous night partying with Danny and the Asking crew. Anything to distract himself from the fact that Matt hadn't said a word to him since the last night at the hotel. He had dropped by the first day to watch the singer's set but didn't stick around; leaving before Andy had a chance to say anything to him.

It was his own fault for making things awkward. His whiskey drunk brain convinced him that he could change Matt's mind with one night of passion. Perhaps it was a bit of self-sabotage on his part, he knew he couldn't handle going back to being friends only. So, he made it impossible for that to happen.

"Sorry everyone, that's all the time they have today," John announced much to the displeasure of the line of fans still waiting to have things signed.

Andy didn't hesitate, waving to the fans before ducking out from under the tent and making his way towards bus land. The pounding in his head was growing worse with each step. He hadn't appreciated their 11 AM set time, no doubt punishment for destroying the stage the day before. The singer had barely enough time to put his warpaint on, having spent most of the morning dry heaving in the bathroom.

The A/C on the bus was a welcome change compared to the sauna that was the bus lot. Andy wiped the sweat from his brow, grabbing a bottle of white wine from the fridge up front and making his way back to the bunks. He knew he was only shooting himself in the foot by trying to live off alcohol, cigarettes, and the occasional slice of pizza, especially on this tour. But the last thing on his mind was his health.

Matt lifted a cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. He leaned back against the bus, letting the nicotine calm his brain. Avoiding Andy had been harder than he thought it would be. Whether it was in the press tent, catering, or backstage, he had to make an effort to avoid being seen. A difficult task considering his height. The guitarist couldn't even find solace on stage; looking out into a sea of kids wearing warpaint and Black Veil shirts made it hard to forget the empty feeling in his heart.

Any healing the older man had tried to do in preparation for tour had been destroyed by one night of bad judgment. Andy's plan had almost worked, almost making him want to try again. His plan to slip out of the hotel room before Andy woke up had failed. While he had woken up before the singer, he couldn't tear himself away from the sleeping man. Resorting instead to laying there for the better part of an hour with Andy curled up to his side, having to convince himself not to cave. Then there was the awkward departure of 'goodbye' but also, 'not goodbye because I'll see you every day for the next three months'.

Matt felt a lump forming in his throat at the memory of how excited he used to be about this tour. How he had imagined Andy by his side the whole time, getting into trouble with the man and making memories that would last a lifetime. Now it just felt like punishment.

"Aye- asshole!" The man's voice brought Matt out of his feelings, jumping the loud greeting.

"What's up, man?" The guitarist nodded as Danny made his way towards him, by the looks of the crooked path he was walking the man was already drunk.

"How come you haven't been partying on our bus with us? Last night was fucking insane, you should have been there. Ben found these two strippers and fuck... you're missing out, dude." The bearded man laughed, completely oblivious to why he'd skipped out on the invitation.

Danny and Andy had become quite good friends, and it seemed increasingly so the past few days. It was only day three, but word had spread around that Asking and Black Veil had all the booze and party favors. Matt liked Danny, but the last thing he wanted to do was watch Andy get fucked up with the man. That sounded like the opposite of letting loose and having a fun time to him. He took Danny's cluelessness to mean Andy hadn't told him anything about their breakup or even that they were together.

"Dude, it's the third day. We got three months, you gotta learn to pace yourself." Matt replied, offering the man a cigarette.

"Pace myself? Sounds lame." Danny laughed, lighting up the cig. "You should party with Andy and me tonight, it's gonna be fucking wild."

Matt froze up at the mention of the singer's name, racking his brain for a convincing response. "I don't know... I'm supposed to help Craig with writing some new shit..."

"Aw come on, that can wait. Better yet, bring him too! A hundred bucks says I can out drink all three of you"

The guitarist didn't doubt that was true at all. Danny was a straight-up beast when it came to partying, all the more reason it worried him that Andy was spending so much time on his bus.

"That's 'cause you're like fucking 20, give it a few more years and we'll see how fair of a fight it is then." Matt teased.

"All the more reason to come party, ya ain't getting any younger." Danny slapped him on the back, "so I'll see you tonight then, yeah?"

"Yeah... sure, sure, I'll drop by for a bit I guess." Matt gave in, hoping that would appease the man. It seemed to work because he gave him a thumbs-up before catching up with the rest of his band.

Matt groaned once his friend was out of sight, running his hands down his face. It shouldn't be an issue. He should be able to hang out with Danny if he wanted to. It had been him who introduced the two singers in the first place. It would only be weird if Andy made it that way, he told himself. He'd go; have a few drinks and then turn in for the night. No reason to deny himself a good time because of the kid.

"Aw, come on Andy you're really gonna let this fucker out drink you?" Ben laughed, pouring out another round of whiskey.

"Ya broke your ribs and lost your touch, man," Danny smirked, picking his shot glass up and throwing it back. Slamming it back down onto the table in front of the younger man.

"Fuck off, you've got like fifty pounds on me." Andy protested, raising the glass to his lips and downing the bitter liquid.

The two girls sitting beside Ben laughed at his comment, one of them clearly eyeing the raven-haired singer. She winked at him before turning her attention back to Ben. Most guys would have taken that as an invite, but Andy could care less about her or her tight mini skirt.

Andy grabbed his can of mountain dew, taking a sip to chase the shot. He was already starting to feel lightheaded from the first round of shots, but the numbness it brought was a welcome feeling. Drinking on an empty stomach wasn't going to win him any bragging rights by the time the night was through, but he was mostly concerned with blacking out. The faster the better.

The door to the bus opened catching the singer's attention as two people made their way up the stairs. Andy's heart dropped into his stomach as his eyes met the guitarist's; managing to kill any buzz he had going. Matt gave him a sheepish smile, nodding his way before taking a seat with Craig on the couch.

"Matt! It's about time you fucker!" Ben cheered, pouring out two shots for the new arrivals.

"Yeah, sorry man, heard we've been missing out on all the fun." Matt chuckled, clinking his shot glass against the bandmate's before taking it.

Andy felt like he was frozen in place, his eyes darting over towards Danny. Perhaps it was his fault for not filling the man in on the situation between them. As far as Danny knew, they were still best friends. When he'd asked why Matt wasn't partying with them Andy dodged the question, saying something about him wanting to cut back on drinking.

 _Fucking great_ , he thought to himself. What was supposed to be a fun night of getting fucked up and forgetting his heartbreak was now just another painful reminder of the things he couldn't have.

"I'll say... Sasha darling why don't you cut up a few lines for our friends here." Ben nudged one of the girls promoting her to search through her purse.

Matt could feel Andy's eyes burning a hole through him. By the looks of the multiple empty shot glasses and bottles; he had quite the head start on getting fucked up. It wasn't fair that Andy got to escape his emotions through drugs and alcohol. In a way Matt envied his ability to silence the pain, meanwhile, he was left to be the responsible one. Fuck it, he wanted to escape too.

The rush hit him hard, the fatigue from the past few weeks evaporating from his body. The looming depression that had become a constant companion starting to lift. He glanced over at the younger man who was standing with his arms crossed, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger.

"Alright, alright. Matt, you and Craig versus me and Andy. Let's go." Danny announced, grabbing shot glasses and a bottle of fireball.

"Oh yeah? You're on." Craig responded, sitting up and leaning forward in his seat.

"Both of you have to catch up to us though, got to make it a fair fight," Danny added, pouring each of them a shot.

Andy forced himself to smile, not wanting Danny to catch on that something was off between him and Matt. Not that he thought Danny would be bothered by it, more so because he didn't want to have to explain things to the man. Andy knew there wasn't a scenario in which he looked like the good guy.

Andy stumbled into the bunks, his head spinning from the multiple shots. He steadied himself against the wall, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. He'd drank past his limits even by his own standards, the sight of Matt having fun had only made his blood boil. How could he sit there and pretend like everything was normal between them? Why had he even come? It wasn't like Matt could pretend that he didn't know he'd be here.

He pushed the door to the bathroom open, seeing double as he leaned over the toilet. Matt and Craig had beat him and Danny after he tapped out on the fourth shot. He was already drunk; it wasn't much of a fair fight. Either way, he had drunk entirely too much, on the verge of what was sure to be alcohol poisoning.

"Fuck..." he groaned to himself. Tomorrow was going to be hell.

Pushing two fingers back into his throat, it didn't take much effort before the shots came back up. Burning worse than they did going down. _Fuck fireball_ he thought to himself, his chest on fire. _I just need to go lay down_ he told himself, rinsing his mouth out with water from the sink. It wasn't like he was going to be having the fun night he thought he was going to have anyway.

"You're not tapping out on us, are you Six?" Danny laughed; his words slurred from intoxication as he emerged from the backroom. Catching the singer as he walked out of the bathroom.

Andy glanced up, having trouble focusing on his friend. "Fuck no, I just... fuck, I just needed a second."

"You better not be, cause we're having a rematch. That first round wasn't fair." Danny said, motioning towards the front of the bus.

"I can't do anymore fireball tonight, man." Andy groaned, leaning against the wall for balance.

" _The_ Andy taping out? What's gotten into you?" Danny gasped, cracking himself up. "For real though, what's up with you and Matt. I don't think you've said one word to him tonight. You two didn't get into a fight, did you?"

Andy's heart skipped a beat at the question; so Danny had caught on that something happened. Guess he was more observant than Andy gave him credit for. "Uh... nothing... everything is fine. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? Didn't he miss the first week of Warped to help you out with your ribs? And then the two of you don't even speak to each other?" Danny pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"You know I've heard some rumors about the two of you... there something you ain't telling me?" He continued.

The skin on the back of Andy's neck was heating up, his heart racing. It didn't surprise him that people talked. He wasn't delusional, he knew word would eventually get around about them. But it didn't matter anymore, that was over and done with according to Matt.

"Oh yeah, what type of rumors?" Andy replied.

"I heard that you at Matt were having a little fun on that last tour, can't say that I'm surprised but... I'm a little hurt that _I_ wasn't your first pick." Danny joked, faking a pout but something in the tone of his voice told Andy that there was an invitation in there somewhere.

"Yeah, well... that's over now." Andy huffed, his eyes meeting the other man's.

"That so? Guess that explains why Matty was so hesitant to come tonight... you must be one hell of a time." The joking demeanor was gone; replaced with a seductive edge that made a shiver go down the younger man's spine.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to find out," Andy smirked.

If Andy was sober, he knew he wouldn't be encouraging the man's advances. Danny was attractive, and from the photos that were leaked, pretty well endowed. But he was Matt's friend first, and that was a big no-no. The singer could hear Matt's voice in the other room, going on and on about some stupid tour prank. He should walk away, go back to his bus, and sleep it off.

"I think that could start some problems, don't you?" Danny braced his hand against the wall beside Andy.

"Yeah... it probably would." Andy stepped closer, the alcohol clouding his judgment. 


	10. If You Think This Song Is About You, It Probably Is

**Chapter Ten: If You Think This Song Is About You, It Probably Is**

Danny's fingers curled around the singer's throat, squeezing the sides and smirking at the reaction it provoked in the man. "Dirty fucking slut..." he chuckled, looking Andy over.

Andy's lips were red and swollen from their aggressive make-out session; lipstick smeared a crossed his face. His hair a mess from Danny's fingers being laced through it while he was on his knees. A drunken smirk on his face and lust in his eyes. Danny pressed him up against the bathroom wall, his lips meeting Andy's once again.

A shiver went down the younger man's spine, the alcohol and hormones making his head spin. He couldn't even recall how they had ended up in the bathroom together, parts of it already lost to a blackout.

"Isn't that your type?" Andy purred, running his fingertips up the man's chest.

Danny grabbed the singer by the hair, bending him over the sink roughly. "You know me so well." He teased, yanking the man's pants down past his ass.

"You better stay quiet... wouldn't want anyone to come ruin our fun," Danny added, rubbing the younger man's hips. His own intoxication making it hard to see straight.

"Mm, no promises," Andy smirked, glancing over his shoulder, too caught up in the moment to realize the risk he was taking.

Danny was a thrill, a way to feel validated. There was no love between them, even their friendship was relatively new. It was the novelty and forbiddances of it that made it fun... either that or entirely too much whiskey. His heartbreak had turned into a bitter desire to get even with his former lover and friend. A pathological need to be wanted by someone in some capacity and to show Matt that even if he didn't want him; others did.

****Andy could feel himself starting to blackout, bracing himself against the sink as Danny's thrusts became harder and more erratic. "F-Fuck..." he moaned, having to bite down on his bottom lip to keep quiet.

"D-Don't stop-" he gasped, reaching a hand down to stroke himself.

"You feel so fucking good- goddamn" Danny dug his nails into the singer's hips hard enough to leave bruises as he started to come.

Andy couldn't hold back anymore, his gasps and moans pushing the older man over the edge. Andy's legs shaking as he reached his own climax, coming over his hand.

Matt stumbled into the back of the bus, using the wall to prop himself up as he made his way towards the bathroom. Another round of shots with Craig and Ben had crossed him over the boundary between drunk and wasted, not that he wasn't enjoying the blissful numbness that came with it. Danny had been right; he had been missing out on all the fun. He'd spent the first few days of the tour as a recluse, hiding away in his bus all for the purpose of avoiding Andy. He was only cheating himself though. Andy had already taken enough fun out of his life, and he wasn't about to let him take any more.

 _Fuck him_ , the guitarist thought to himself, _I've spent way too much goddamn time worrying about him and taking care of his needs._

Matt reached for the bathroom door, pausing when he heard moaning coming from the other side. He rolled his eyes, figuring it was probably one of the Asking guys and some groupie they tracked down after their set. He was about to walk away and throw in the towel for the night when he heard the singer's unmistakable voice.

"Fuck- right there Danny... don't stop." Andy cried out, completely oblivious to the person on the other side of the door.

Matt's blood ran cold, sobering him up instantly. There was no way Andy would stoop that low he told himself, no way he would fuck his best friend with him on the bus. The guitarist stood frozen in place, listening to Andy's gasps and moans. His heart felt like it was shattered, all the pep talks he'd given himself about getting over the singer going out the window. The heartbreak swiftly turning to anger; there was no way this wasn't revenge for Sarah. Andy had gotten upset about a random bar hookup, so he took it to the next level. Out of all the people on tour, he picked the one person that would hurt Matt the most.

The door opened up as Danny slipped out, zipping his fly up. His eyes going wide as he found himself face to face with the guitarist. Quickly wiping the red lipstick stains from his jaw as he kicked the bathroom door closed.

"Hey, Matty, what's up?" The man laughed, slinging an arm around Matt's shoulders.

Matt forced a smile; it wasn't Danny he should be upset with. He couldn't help feeling a twinge of animosity towards the man, the wounds of his and Andy's break-up were still fresh, and Danny had just rubbed salt in them.

"Nothing much... just wondering where you and Andy ran off to." The guitarist replied, trying to control the bitterness in his tone.

"Oh, you know... had to re-up real quick," Danny smirked, pointing to his nose.

Matt opened his mouth to respond just as Ben burst into the back, shouting Danny's name. 

"Danny! Ya stupid fuck get up here we're taking more shots." Ben yelled as he threw the curtains back, saving his bandmate from any further questioning.

Danny gladly took the excuse to leave, patting his friend on the back before disappearing behind the curtains. Matt's eyes fell back to the door; he knew Andy was inside. Was confrontation even worth it? It would only turn into a screaming match with no winners, then again, he was tired of letting the younger man walk all over him. The truth was he had been good to Andy, he'd done everything he could to save their relationship just to have him throw it all away.

Andy could hear the two men talking outside, his heart still racing from all the physical exertion. Now that he'd gotten his 'revenge' instead of feeling vindicated there was only a hollow feeling in his chest. He could hear the suspicion in Matt's voice as he desperately tried to cover up the evidence of his sins. Pulling his jeans back up and smoothing his hair out, wracking his brain for a convincing lie. Just about to wipe the lipstick from his face when the knob turned and the door clicked open.

Andy kept his head down, waiting for Matt to say something. The guilt was already starting to eat at him, the high of endorphins and alcohol starting to fade. He was met with silence as Matt stood behind him with his arms crossed. The singer glanced up at the mirror; the look on the man's face told him everything he needed to know. There wasn't a chance in hell of remaining friends; he'd sealed his fate on that one.

"My best friend? Really, Andy?" The guitarist finally broke, scoffing.

Andy turned around, gathering the courage to look Matt in the eyes. He tried to keep a straight face, pretending like he didn't know what the man was talking about. Unsure of how much Matt had overheard.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Andy rolled his eyes, pushing past the older man.

Matt grabbed the singer's wrist, yanking him back before he could make it past the curtains. Andy stumbled, almost losing his balance as the older man pushed him up against the bunks. His leather jacket clenched in the older man's fist. "So, you have the balls to fuck my friend but not admit to it? Really? Didn't know you were a whore and a coward..."

"Watch how you fucking speak to me! We're not together anymore, I can fuck whoever I want to. Isn't that what you said?" Andy sneered; his words heavily slurred.

Matt let go of the boy's wrist, shaking his head and laughing sarcastically. "God... you're such a fucking _child_. Why did I ever think you were mature enough to actually handle a relationship. Really? You're going to compare this to Sarah?"

"That was some random chick from a bar, Andy! Not your best fucking friend." The guitarist shouted, unable to look at the man as he paced back and forth.

"Why do you care? You broke up with me." Andy shot back.

He hated how easily the younger man could get under his skin or why he still cared. If Danny wanted to deal with his psychotic ass then he could, Matt wasn't going to stop him. Of course, he would be surprised if either of them remembered their escapades in the morning. He shouldn't be wasting his time giving Andy any more of what he wanted; attention. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from ripping into the man.

"You know what... you're right. I don't fucking care. Do whatever you want. I tried to be friends with you but that's clearly not possible. You wanted me to hate you, Andy? Well, you got your wish. I do..." Matt said, his tone callous and unflinching.

He watched as the singer's face fell, the words hitting him like bullets before he had the chance to put his walls up. His blue eyes looked dead to the world as he pushed his emotions back down, forcing himself to keep his composure. His illusion of perfection had already been shattered, yet here he was pretending like he was doing great by himself. Acting as if he hadn't begged, cried, and pleaded with the older man to stay. 

"The feeling is fucking mutual," Andy replied, despite his heart being in a million pieces. 

"Good... glad we don't have to pretend anymore." Matt retorted, feeling a headache starting to come on from all the yelling. 


	11. Note to Self

**Chapter Eleven: Note to Self**

Andy pushed the remnants of his lunch around with his fork, ignoring the lively conversation going on around him. He had hoped the greasy fare would alleviate his hangover, but if anything, he only felt worse. Another week of pushing his body to the limits was catching up with him. Dehydrated, sleep-deprived, and subsisting on mostly candy and alcohol had left him running on empty.

The singer had been on a bender for the last seven days, not wanting to come to terms with what he'd done. Since their fight at the party, Matt hadn't even looked in his direction. Danny hadn't spoken of their fling since the morning after; having to combine their limited memories together to figure out what happened. Andy could only recall bits and pieces of Danny fucking him over the sink and the lead up to it.

What he wished he didn't remember was the ensuring fighting between him and Matt. The man's words echoing loud and clear in his head; Matt hated him. He had finally pushed the man to his breaking point and there wasn't enough alcohol in the world to mask that pain.

"Yo, Andy you're zoning out mate. I ask you if you were down to go to party tonight?" Ben asked, waving his hands in front of the distracted singer.

Andy snapped out of his daydreaming, taking a sip of his water. "I don't know... I think I'm gonna fucking die if I don't sleep tonight..." he groaned.

"Aw, come on... we've got a hotel tonight. Can't miss that opportunity to go fucking wild." Cameron pressured him, adding that the rest of his band was going to be there.

"Uh... yeah, maybe then... we'll see."

Andy faded back out of the conversation, not having the energy to contribute anything of substance. The set had taken the last of it out of him, with the heat index it had been over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Resulting in him sweating out most of the previous night's liquor and being lightheaded by the end of the show. Beating the shit out of his body on stage each day hadn't been good for his ribs either. He woke up most mornings in pain, making Advil his normal breakfast. Which seemed to do less and less to control the aching in his side.

"What are you trying to hint at, Craig?" Matt asked, his knee bouncing nervously under the table as he watched the blonde man's reaction.

"Nothing... nothing... I didn't mean anything by it. Just mentioning that they called me the other day." He answered, giving the guitarist a reassuring smile.

Matt didn't buy it for a second. The singer had been acting strange; more detached and secretive the past few days. At first, Matt thought it was just him being in one of his 'moods' or a fight with his girlfriend had set him off. But then he mentioned his old band had called him; asking him to consider coming back. The casual comment set alarm bells off in the guitarist's head.

Craig had made D.R.U.G.S out of a bunch of refugees from other bands. All of whom were searching for a new place to belong and create music in. After the nasty fall out he had with his former band, they were the last people Matt expected him to be talking with. Despite Craig's assurance that his future was in _this_ band, Matt didn't believe him. That would essentially leave him without a job, it was only natural to be worried. He'd put his everything into helping the other man make D.R.U.G.S a reality, surely, they would survive more than a year.

"... why even talk with them, then? Pointless, right?"

"Matt, I swear. My one and only priority is this band, Chiodos is in the past. All I said was that they called me. I told them no. There's nothing to be concerned about." Craig insisted, sighing as he fidgeted with his straw.

"Okay... okay. I believe you... I guess thanks for being transparent about it. Communication... that's good in bands." Matt replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Perhaps, Craig was telling the truth. Maybe he did just want to be transparent about the offer and there wasn't anything nefarious going on. He was overthinking things and stressing himself out for no reason. The last thing he needed was more stress added to his plate. He hadn't slept much lately, staying up most nights going over everything that had gone wrong with him and Andy. As much as he told himself they were a thing of the past, he still missed the man. Or rather, he missed who he used to be.

Matt glanced over his shoulder, scanning the tables for the singer. Spotting him in the far corner of the catering tent, sitting with the rest of his band, and Asking. His head was down, buried in his arms. He looked miserable as he sat up, pushing his hair back and getting up from the table. Their eyes met briefly before the singer looked away, quickly making his exit.

Andy's ribs ached, the pain radiating down his back and around his side every time the muscles in his chest contracted. The headache he had woken up with was now a throbbing migraine and his throat burned from his fingers scratching the back of it. He leaned back against the stall, waiting for the dizzy feeling to pass. The venue bathroom was filthy, but he was too exhausted to care.

Since he'd broken his ribs, he'd been mostly clean from making himself sick, the pain too much to bear. Over the last week though, he'd slipped into what one might call a relapse. He knew it was only adding to the misery he felt each morning, but it beat the overwhelming emotions that came with not doing it. It wasn't like anyone cared anymore.

The temporary high was starting to fade, leaving him feeling disgusted and empty. He looked down at his hands, painful red blisters decorating his knuckles reminded him of the toll his body was taking. His mind drifted back to the morning everything went wrong; when Matt gave him the ultimatum. What would it have been like if he'd taken the help the older had offered? Would he be happier now? Perhaps he wouldn't have smashed three of his ribs into shrapnel, maybe Matt wouldn't hate him and maybe he wouldn't hate himself.

Andy swayed as he walked over to the sinks, the lightheadedness not going away even after splashing cold water on his face. _No, I'll always hate myself. No amount of therapy will fix that._

"Fuck..." he groaned to himself, closing his eyes in hopes that the feeling would pass.

"Hey... come on, wake up..." A voice called out as the singer started to come to, finding himself on the ground in front of the sinks.

"Goddamn... fuck, my head." He moaned in pain, holding the back of his head. His vision blurry as he tried to focus on the person kneeling in front of him.

Craig offered his hand, helping the younger man to his feet. Andy leaned back against the wall, cursing himself for having passed out. At least it wasn't Matt who walked in on him, the last thing he needed was another lecture. The guitarist would still hear about it though, no way Craig wouldn't mention it to him.

"Are you alright? I walked in and you were just... on the floor."

"I'm fine... I'm fine... I think I got heat stroke or something on stage today." Andy lied, rubbing the back of his head where a bump was already starting to form.

"Maybe you should go by the medic tent then, they can hook you up to an IV and you'll feel good as new," Craig suggested, an awkwardness in his tone that made Andy wonder if he knew about Danny.

"Hey Craig, what's taking so-" Matt pushed the door open, freezing when he saw Andy standing there with the blonde singer.

"... what's going on?" he asked suspiciously, not fully trusting either of the two men given events of the past week.

Matt eyed the younger man, noticing how pale and exhausted he looked. He felt a twinge in his heart at the sight of his former friend; trying to repress the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. Andy wasn't his problem anymore, if he wanted to continue down his path of self-destruction, he could do it alone.

"I passed out," Andy answered before Craig had the chance to, regretting bringing it up the second the words left his lips.

"Oh," Matt replied, his heart skipping a beat.

He shuttered to think what Andy was doing in there. The younger man's condition had deteriorated since he'd seen him last and he wasn't sure if it was because of the non-stop partying or something worse. Andy had made it quite clear the day they broke up that he had no intentions of seeking help to get better.

"I told him he should get checked out by a medic." Craig butted in, earning a glare from Andy.

"That's probably a good idea, I'm heading that way now. I can walk you there." Matt kicked himself for the offering; he needed to let go of the boy.

Andy kept his eyes on the grass as he and Matt walked in silence towards the medic tent, keeping a safe distance from one another. He glanced over at the guitarist whose attention was directed at the cigarette in his hand, taking a long drag. The older man surprised him when he offered to walk him to the medic tent, relieving Craig of the duty. Andy wanted to think that it was a positive sign, but his gut told him Matt just didn't trust him alone with any of his friends anymore.

"So, what was the real reason you passed out?" Matt asked, breaking the silence.

"Probably just dehydrated from performing earlier," Andy replied, biting at his bottom lip.

"Mhm, sure... probably." Matt didn't believe the singer for a minute, but Andy's lies weren't his problem anymore. He could live in his delusions all he wanted.

"What's wrong, you don't believe me?" Andy questioned, the tone of his voice making it seem like he was offended.

Matt chuckled and shook his head; the audacity to get offended by the truth was very fitting of the younger man. "No, I don't"

Andy stayed quiet as they entered the tent; a red cross plastered on the side of it. It was mostly empty inside except for the medic staff and a few hungover musicians. White dividers separating each of the beds. The singer hopped up on one of the cots, his legs burning from the walk over.

Matt thought about leaving, he didn't want to give Andy any false hope that he cared again. Instead, he found himself sitting on a fold-out chair beside the cot, scrolling through Twitter on his phone while the nurse hooked Andy up to an IV.

"Ow, motherfucker-" Andy cursed as the needle pierced his skin, grumbling at the woman that she should be gentler.

"Be nice, she's trying to help you." Matt snipped at him, feeling bad for the poor woman who was just doing her job. _What a wonderful way to spend the day; getting cussed at by alcoholic band dudes_ he thought to himself.

Andy shot a glare at Matt as the woman walked away, leaving the two of them alone. Why was the guitarist even there? From what he remembered of their conversation; Matt hated him now.

"You know you're going to end up really hurting yourself one day if you don't learn some self-control," Matt spoke, looking up from his phone.

"I already broke my ribs, that's not really a threat." Andy huffed.

"Goddamn, does everything have to be a fucking competition with you?" The older man groaned, "Ribs heal, I'm talking about the irreversible damage you're doing to your body."

"That's not your problem anymore, so why do you care?"

Matt stood up, tucking his phone in his back pocket. Andy couldn't just be content to have his presence there, he had to run his mouth. If that was the case, then he could be alone. "I don't care, you're right."

"Then you're here because...?" Andy asked in a sarcastic tone. 

"Enjoy your solitude then." The guitarist scoffed, turning to leave.

"Oh... and uh, funny how I don't see Danny here... almost like he doesn't actually care about you either." Matt regrated the petty remark as Andy's face fell, his words clearly hitting a sore spot.

_Oh well, it's the truth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for not updating this or my Ronnie/Andy story in a while. This is the last semester of my program and I'm studying every day pretty much all day. I'll still be slowly working on updates though! Thank you everyone for being patient lol <3 


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